by Simone Pond
“What are you saying?”
“The Repatterning is really a worldwide cleansing.” Dru comes close and takes both of my bloody hands into hers. I want to collapse against her and beg her to make this stop, but I keep still and pay attention.
“No bones about it, kid. This is a culling,” Zach adds.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Mass genocide,” he says.
I can’t hold back my nerves and run over to a tree and puke. This whole time my father and his friends have been plotting a worldwide massacre. I thought they were just removing the old systems and replacing them with new and improved ones to regain some order and structure. Did I really think that? I don’t know what I thought. But it couldn’t have been this. I rest my head against the tree; the bark pokes into my forehead.
“You okay?” Dru rubs my back and holds out a canteen.
I take a few sips of water. I need to keep it together. I don’t want her to think I’m a complete wuss. “You call this training?” I laugh.
“It’s intense. I know.” She pulls me away from the tree and we go back over to Zach.
“I know this is rough, but the best way to break it down is putting you in the middle of it. Your father and his elites have one sole purpose—to kill off ninety percent of the population. We’re nothin’ but garbage to these assholes.”
I’m too stunned to speak. I always knew my father and his colleagues were up to something massive, but this is beyond my comprehension.
Zach continues. “The Repatterning is a phased plan. They started with little things to see how people would adapt. Then they moved to the soft kill phase with the mandatory vaccines, and now they’re in the final phases, which is what you saw last night. Straight up slaughter.”
“But why?”
“Fresh start. The New Agenda.”
“I’ve heard mentions of it, but I don’t know the details.”
“After they destroy civilization, they’re gonna rebuild a new one with an ‘improved’ human prototype. They’re gonna breed them inside the City Centers. That’s the New Agenda—restoring order out of chaos.”
“But what about their families they shipped off? Are we supposed to live out the rest of our lives in these multi-billion-dollar bunkers?”
“Not sure, but they wanna keep you guys around for some reason. Otherwise you’d be gone.”
“What about the people they don’t kill off?”
“They’re being sent to plantations to work as slaves for the wealthy until the City Centers are up and running.”
“I don’t get it. Any of it.”
“Twofold. One, they want ultimate control over all resources and human creation. And two, they want to live indefinitely. Their endgame is making perfect humans to use as body replacements. They’re gonna upload their minds into new bodies, over and over, ad infinitum. Your father’s been working on this technology for decades. John Dickson came into the picture and made it happen. Your father’s smart, but Dickson’s the true genius.”
“And so you want to go to my father’s lab and try to stop them?”
“See, I knew you’d catch on.” Zach unwraps a stick of gum and offers me a piece, which I decline.
“What do I have to do with any of this?”
“You know your father. You’ll be the key to ending the Repatterning.”
“How are we pulling that off? Those are some pretty powerful men.”
“Been studying your father and his elite cronies for a long time. And I can promise you this: we’re the underground team who’s gonna end the Repatterning and stop the New Agenda from ever happening.”
“Who—the two of you?” I laugh, though I don’t think any of this is funny.
“No, we got people all over. Now we have you on board.”
“What makes think I’d join your team and go against my father?”
“Because your heart wants to do the right thing.” Dru catches herself biting her thumbnail and shoves her hand in her pocket.
“Who the hell are you two?” I ask.
“Both Zach and I were taken from our homes when we were kids. Your father placed us in a facility with other candidates to be used as guinea pigs for his behavioral experiments. We eventually became assets. Because of our hard work, we were granted life. So we got assigned to the Subterranea.”
“This sounds like a bunch of conspiracy-theory crap.”
“Does it?” Zach walks over to me and rests his hands on my shoulders. “Your father experimented on you when you were young, but you weren’t the right fit. That’s when he turned to outside resources.”
I remember the games of chess and the shock education. Every bone in my body wants to reject what they’re saying, but I know it’s true.
“Your father has to be stopped. We need your insider’s intel to help us do that.” Zach peers down at me.
“But how? These men are powerful beyond words.”
“You know the landscape and you know the house. Most important: you know your father.”
“I don’t know him.” I look at the ground, trying to hide the tears flooding my eyes.
“You do, William,” says Dru. “Don’t worry, we’ll help hone in your skills with the training apps. You’ll know when you’re ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“To break out of the Subterranea and end this,” says Zach.
I’m not sure I’m capable of ending an apocalypse, but I do want to get the hell out of the Subterranea. I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen. “Okay, there’s a path back here along the creek. We can follow it to my property.”
We walk in silence. The branches snap under our feet and echo through the forest. I follow the slight trickle of water coming from the creek. It seemed a lot bigger as a kid when I used to float my action figures on paper boats and chase them downstream. We come to my old landmark, an oak tree, and I motion east toward the hill. We end up at the gray brick wall that surrounds my property. When I was younger I’d climb the trees and jump over the wall to get to the woods, but that doesn’t seem possible now. Dru uses a rope to lasso a branch and climbs up. At the top she straddles the wall and swings to the other side, jumping to the ground.
“Go on.” Zach holds out the rope.
“I’m not much of a climber.”
“You better learn then.”
I take the rope and think back to gym class. My hands slip from all the sweat and blood. I only manage to move up a foot or two. Zach’s already scaling a tree and leaping from the branches over to the wall. I don’t know how he’s moving so fast. Maybe part of the training is seeing if I can put mind over matter. I reframe my thoughts and visualize my body moving up the rope with ease. I try climbing again and within seconds I reach the top and swing over to the wall. I look down at Zach and Dru on the other side. It’s a long drop, so I close my eyes and hope for the best. I thump to the ground without breaking any bones.
The house is dark and the outside lights are off, but that doesn’t mean we’re not being watched. “We can go through the kitchen. That’s how I used to sneak in.” I point to the southwest wing.
We stay close to the trees, making our way to the kitchen entrance.
“I’ll go first and see if the door is unlocked.” Without waiting for a response, I run toward the house. I get about ten feet away when a spotlight from above blares down, blinding me. I raise my arms to a hail of bullets that pummel me to the ground…
I’m crouched in a ball in the middle of the enormous dome—the training program is over. I stand up. “Did I just die?”
“Yeah,” Dru comes over to help me up.
“We didn’t complete our mission, but not bad for your first try.” Zach pats my back. He doesn’t have a scratch on him.
I look down at my hands. They’re spotless. “How does that thing work? I mean, what about the glass in my hands? Or the fact that I just got gunned down? It felt so real.”
“Combo of high-end virt
ual programming and psychotropic enhancements in the juice. Helps expand the creative side of the brain,” he explains.
“Was any of it real? Our conversation in the woods about the New Agenda?”
Zach looks at me. “That’s real.”
“So my father and his friends plotted an apocalypse?” I don’t bother wiping away the tears. I’m allowed to cry today. After all, I just found out my father is the mastermind behind the end of the world. I’m pissed at myself for not seeing this coming. Maybe I did, deep down. What I can’t figure out is why he sent me to the Subterranea. He claims it was for protection, but maybe it was to keep me out of his way.
“You did great, William. You have a strong creative mind.” Dru smiles and gives me a hug. The best part of this training crap is being this close to her. “This is why we need you,” she tells me.
“So you really want me to join your underground team to take down my father?” I laugh.
“We need to stop him before he destroys everything,” she says with a straight face.
“I don’t know, guys. As much as I’d like to help stop whatever is coming, I don’t think I can go up against my father.”
Dru bites her nails and keeps staring at me with her bright green eyes. If getting to hang around her more is part of the package, maybe joining them won’t be too bad.
“At least come back for more training,” she says. “It can’t hurt.”
“I’ll think about it.” I head for the exit.
“I went ahead and signed you up for the next six months,” Zach calls out. “Don’t forget to watch tonight’s America 2.0—for some inspiration.”
I wait out on the platform for the Blue Line and let the tears flow without holding back. This is much worse than I imagined. How am I supposed to stop my father? I remember seeing him chuckling with his colleagues during dinner, and the whole time they were plotting to end the world to fit their agenda. Islands weren’t enough.
Chapter 7
Back in my room, I take the longest shower in the history of shower taking. For a virtual program, that combat training was extreme and I’m wiped out. The hot water massages my rubbery legs and soothes my overworked muscles. I try to wash away thoughts of the Repatterning, but there are too many images of fires burning and buildings crumbling imprinted in my mind. It’s time to call Mother and get some answers.
“Hal.”
“Yes, William?”
“Video chat with my mother.”
A screen lights up and Mother’s image appears. “Hello, darling.” She’s dressed in a sparkly silver gown like she’s going to an event. I have no clue where she got such a nice dress when the rest of us are getting microfiber clothes. I don’t ask.
“So, you’re joining me for dinner tonight?”
“Oh, no, darling. I’m sorry, not tonight.”
“I need to talk to you.”
She fidgets and applies some lip-gloss. “Well, what is it darling? I’m in the middle of something.”
“What could you possibly be in the middle of? Screw it. Just tell me something, how much did you know about the Repatterning?”
“What do you mean?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder.
“You know what I mean.”
“It doesn’t matter now, darling.”
“It matters to me!”
“We’ll have to continue this conversation later, dearest.” She signs out of the video chat, leaving me with no resolve and no dinner date.
It’s a Hawaiian luau theme in the Dining Room. Cabanas are set up on the lawn and tiki torches illuminate the pathways. Moonlight reflects on the dark blue ocean and a million stars scatter across the sky. There’s a band playing and hula dancers on the stage. I can’t tell if it’s real or a hologram, so I go over and run my hand straight through the belly of the ukulele player who keeps strumming. The buffet’s stacked with faux roasted pork, chicken and grilled vegetables. I load up my plate and order a turquoise drink with fruit kabobs, then make my way to a table far away from everyone to avoid potential conversations. No such luck. A few couples sit down. One of the ladies is so pumped up with eternal youth products she can barely get her lips around the straw of her fizzy pink cocktail. A bloated man wedges between two gorgeous blondes and starts groping at them, signaling my exit.
Walking through the grass, someone calls my name. I turn around to find Dru, looking all ethereal and delicate in her flowery dress—a big difference from the combat gear. She’s beautiful, but doesn’t know it, which makes her even more beautiful. I’m digging this girl—she’s giving me a reason to not hate this place.
“Hey.” I try to sound casual.
“How are you feeling after your first training?”
“My legs feel like molten lava, but that’s nothing compared to how I feel about the New Agenda.”
“Probably should keep that on the down-low.” She glances around.
“You want to go to the Community Hall to watch tonight’s episode of America 2.0 ?” I ask.
“I’d love to, but we should be careful.”
“Yeah, I know.” I smile and take her hand. I don’t give a shit about the rules.
We step on the platform and wait for the Blue Line. The tram glides in and we’re about to get on when Jack steps out.
“Well, well. Tonight must be ‘slumming with the help’ night.” He laughs.
I ignore him and keep walking toward the tram with Dru. He steps in front of us and I gag from the scent of vodka oozing off of him. “Dude, you stink,” I tell him.
“You think you’re cool down here? Ha! You’re even more pathetic, dickweed.” His bangs swoop over his eyebrows, giving him a cavalier Ivy League look.
“Come on, William. Let’s go.” Dru reaches for my hand.
“Don’t you need to wash some windows?”
“That doesn’t even make sense, you idiot.” I laugh in his face.
“What’d you say, dickweed?” He shoves me toward the tracks.
“There aren’t any windows down here.”
He grabs my shirt and shoves me closer to the edge. The trams are silent and appear out of nowhere—my head could be splattered in seconds. I’m sure this is how I’ll die.
“Your father sent you here cuz he didn’t know what else to do with your useless ass.”
“You’re here, too, so doesn’t that make you useless?”
Jack tightens his grip on my collar, cutting off my air.
“Put him down! A tram could come any second.” Dru runs over.
“Shut up, bitch.” Jack kicks her, knocking her down on the platform.
A rush of energy rockets through my body and, without holding back, I punch Jack, clipping his temple. He drops me on the tracks where I’ll be crushed by a tram. Adrenaline pumps through my body, giving me the strength to climb back up to the platform. Jack—still in shock—holds the left side of his face as I kick him in the balls. He doubles over and I keep punching and kicking him until he drops to the ground. He’s begging me to stop, but I can’t. I think about all of my skateboards and kick some more.
Dru pulls me away. “They’re watching,” she says.
I want to destroy him for all the years of harassing me, but Dru’s standing next to me, and she’s got a point: they’re watching. “Come near me again and I’ll show you how useless I am.” I nudge him with my foot and he rolls over onto his side.
*
We walk through the sliding doors of the Community Hall and it’s like a high-end Vegas casino. We’re hit with a tidal wave of sounds—dinging, beeping and people cheering. The place is packed. People are rushing around, placing bets on games. The more subdued clientele linger in the shadowy lounges along the perimeter.
“Nothing about this says ‘community hall’ to me,” I say.
“Yeah, it’s a little ironic.” Dru laughs.
“Irony is never wasted on the wealthy.”
“You can bet on it.” She winks at her bad joke.
“Where are the
y airing the show?”
“In the multiplex, which fills up fast. We should get seats.”
The multiplex is an enormous space with stadium seating for virtual concerts, movies and sporting events. We sit in a far-off, discreet corner. The place soon fills up with a giddy and chatty crowd, getting ready for tonight’s episode. Do they know this is real, or are they that delusional?
“It’s like we’re living in Roman times,” I say.
“Bread and circus.”
I think about Old Martha and her joke again about me joining the circus. This is one circus I don’t want to join. The lights fade and the audience cheers and whistles. Trumpets sound and the stage lights up with scenes from the streets of Los Angeles. Armed guards wearing gas masks are placed on every neighborhood street corner. Cars and buildings burn. The camera zooms across town and hovers over a mile-long line of filthy people, waiting to enter a field of endless tents.
A woman’s voice speaks over the footage. “Rioting has ceased in East Los Angeles, yet fires continue to burn through the neighborhoods, destroying homes and businesses. The remaining civilians who survived yesterday’s devastation are now being shipped off to Emergency Crisis Camps, ECCs, where they will receive provisions from government emergency management teams. Unable to recover from the continuing stock market crash, the biggest names in corporate America closed their doors today. To prevent further rioting, additional troops from the Division of Internal Security Services, DISS, have been sent out to police the streets.”
The footage fades to black and the screen lights up with a lighthearted jingle. Barb and Dan sit on the same white couch, toasting each other with martinis.
The title card appears: “America 2.0 - Reality TV on Steroids.”
“So, Dan, yesterday was quite a doozy. Here we are in the aftermath.”
“Yes, it was, and yes we are. It looks like death tolls reached an all-time high yesterday.” He makes a sad face.
The ticker tape goes across the bottom of the screen. The final count: 214,733. The audience stares on.
Barb sips her drink. “But the good news is the ECCs are in place and ready to take in refugees. Look at all of those tents! It’ll be fun, like the carnival coming to town.” She chuckles.
