The New Agenda

by Simone Pond

  “It sounds sketchy. I don’t like arbitrarily inviting more psychopaths into our neighborhood. We don’t have control over what they’ll do. We could lose a lot of lives.” Aaron’s thinking big picture, while Zach’s too focused on his own agenda.

  “In war, there are sacrifices,” says Zach.

  “I’m willing to sacrifice myself if it means getting closer to taking down my father.”

  Zach stares at me, the flames from the fire glinting in his eyes. For a second I get a vibe that he’s jealous. Maybe he wants all the fame and glory? I don’t give a crap about that stuff; I just want to stop my father. Sometimes his vainglory clouds his vision. We need to be on equal footing.

  Exhaustion has set in. I grab a blanket and walk away from the group, finding a quiet spot next to a tree. I lie on the cold ground. My eyes feel like they’re full of sand and I’m asleep in seconds…

  “Remove it.”

  “What?” I shout, jumping up from the ground.

  “You okay over there, Morray?” asks Zach.

  “Fine.”

  “Why don’t you get some coffee—join the living?” he says.

  I walk over to the men, feeling sluggish and lethargic. “How long was I out?” I ask.

  “Couple hours.”

  One of the guys hands me a cup of coffee. It’s bitter and gritty, but it wakes me up.

  Lillian comes out of the bunker and joins me by the fire. “Hi,” she says, reaching for a cup of coffee.

  “How are the girls?” I ask.

  “They’re doing fine.” She takes a sip of coffee. “Hope you don’t need them to help with the attack.”

  “Nah,” says Zach. “We’ll be okay with the men we have.”

  “Good.” Lillian walks over to a rock and sits down. She opens a journal and starts writing. I want to ask her for a piece of paper so I can write a note to Dru just in case something horrible happens and I don’t make it back, but she’s deep in thought. Besides, we’re getting ready for a major attack so I decide to hold off on the note. Instead I turn toward Zach. “When do we head out?” I ask.

  “About an hour. We’ll get to the mile mark just before sunset. Once it’s dark, we’ll start taking down the men stationed in the woods, then scale the fence and start burning the crops. While that’s happening, Aaron’s men will move their people out.”

  Aaron joins the conversation. “We’ll be good once we get onto the plantation. We have men on the inside. We just need to get to my dad first, gather up the crew, and get our people safely off the plantation,” he says.

  “What about the big house? And bringing our friends from Denver?” I ask.

  “Me, you, Sam, and Dan are handling the big house. Once we’re close enough in, I’ll unblock your frequencies and we’ll wait for Denver to storm the castle,” says Zach.

  “And if they don’t show?”

  “We’ll have to go in ourselves,” says Zach.

  Lillian glances up from her journal like she wants to say something, but she returns to her writing. I nod to the men and walk over to Lillian.

  “What are you writing?” I sit down next to her.

  “Keeping an account of everything. I don’t ever want to forget.”

  “Kinda hard to forget.”

  “I don’t want the future generations to forget,” she says.

  I’m impressed with her diligence at such a young age. What she’s doing is important work and I’m glad someone’s keeping an account—especially since most records have been destroyed.

  “So, how’s Dru doing?” I ask.

  “She’s fine. Don’t you wanna know about Sarah?”

  “Of course, but Dru was shot.”

  “You really like her, huh?”

  “Pretty obvious? She’s keeping me going.”

  “Yeah, those special bonds help get you through, don’t they?” She glances at Aaron.

  “Are you with Aaron?”

  She smiles. “I really hope he makes it back.”

  “I’ve seen Sam and Dan in action. They’re machines. And Zach’s pretty intense.”

  “What about you?”

  I flashback to the dead bodies in Vegas—the straggler kid I shot down. I look at my swollen finger. “Oh, I’m the secret weapon.” I laugh, though it’s not funny.

  “The chip thing?”

  “Yeah, how’d you know about it?”

  “Sarah told me.”

  “If it weren’t for Sarah, I’d be dead. She’s a genius.”

  “She told me a lot.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I know what she’s getting at—that horrible day that continues to haunt me with waves of shame. “It was a mistake. We weren’t thinking clearly.”

  “Do you even know what’s wrong with her?” asks Lillian.

  “I thought it was a bug.” As I say this, a thumping panic builds in my chest and my denial slowly lifts. “But I have a feeling you’re going to tell me something different.”

  “She’s pregnant.”

  Everything comes to an abrupt stop: the breeze, my heartbeat, energy molecules—the entire solar system. I can’t get air into my lungs. She’s pregnant. My stomach knots up into a ball. How did this happen? I know how it happened, but I don’t want to believe it. This is all wrong. She’s pregnant. We were supposed to forget about it and move on, but now it’s permanent. This is going to change everything. The bitter coffee finds its way back up my throat and I crawl off a few feet to puke in a bush.

  “You’re not wussing out, are you, Morray?” Zach calls out.

  “I’m good,” I yell, forcing myself to stand up.

  Lillian helps me. “He’s fine. I’ll get him something for his stomach.”

  We walk toward the bunker.

  “How’d this happen?” I grind my jaw shut to keep from getting emotional.

  “I think we know how it happened. The question is, what are you gonna do about it?”

  “Dru doesn’t know, does she?”

  “Are you serious? That’s your first concern?”

  I grab her by the shoulders. “Does she?”

  “No, but you need to get your priorities straight. This isn’t going away.”

  “Nobody can know about this. You hear me?”

  “Eventually people will figure it out.”

  Lillian’s right, there’s no way I can keep this a secret. But we don’t need to say anything about it now. The importance of making it back alive has moved up ten notches. I can’t leave Sarah alone. That’s not an option. I have to return. We walk into the bunker where Sarah and Dru are still sleeping. I don’t have the heart to wake up Sarah. She’s looks like a little girl, not someone carrying a baby. I watch her sleeping and it’s the first time I’ve seen her look so peaceful. Oh man, she’s carrying my baby. I wonder when was she going to tell me.

  Aaron enters the bunker. It’s time to go. I snag a piece of paper from Lillian’s journal and a pen, then leave so they can have a few private moments to say goodbye.

  Chapter 17

  The twenty of us begin the hike through the woods toward the Santa Barbara plantation. We spread out to avoid imprinting a solid path that could lead back to the hidden location of the bunker. We’re either walking into a trap, or helping out Dickson. Something we won’t know until we’re there. Also, we don’t have any intel on how many people are in the big house. It could be a simple takeover once we remove security, or it could be another bloodbath, depending on how many elites are shacked up in there. Either way, we’ll make sure Aaron’s people are off the grounds before anything goes down. I hope Sarah and Dru will be okay. I’m sure Lillian is equipped to handle any surprise visitors, but I worry about leaving them alone. I’d like to go back and tell Sarah how sorry I am for everything, but I know my lame words won’t make this right. I fear destroying my relationship with Dru, but I’m hopeful the three of us can work it out. Humans have an incredible ability to adapt. Something my father used to say.

  After a couple hours, w
e reach one of the checkpoints—a tree marked with a carved inscription: Ps 118:6. I’m assuming it’s something from the Bible, but I don’t ask. The plantation officers are stationed about a half-mile away and we sit down among the trees and wait for the sun to set. The vibe shifts as though a cold fog has drifted through the trees and settled into our skin. As the sun lowers, the air gets colder, but I’m sweating bullets. I’m not a warrior like Sam or Dan, who are born fighters and bred for combat—I’m a poet going on sheer adrenaline and the desperate need to return in one piece.

  Aaron carves something into one of the trees. Seems like a message to Lillian, or a warning to future travelers. I’m grateful I left a note for Sarah. I wanted to write a long, heartfelt note about how sorry I was about everything, but I kept it short and simple. I promised I’d make it back to help her with the baby. The time for sentimental journeys is over. We have a plantation to burn down and an apocalypse to end.

  “Morray.” Zach comes over and crouches next to me.

  “I guess you’re going to keep calling me that?”

  “As soon as Aaron’s with his father, make your way to the big house. Get as close as you can, find a tree and wait for me. When you see the crops burning, you’ll know I’m close. Keep an eye out for me.”

  “If Denver doesn’t take the bait, we’re on our own,” I tell him.

  “Sam and Dan have handled way more extreme missions.”

  “I haven’t.”

  “Just get into a tree and wait,” he says and walks off.

  I head over to Aaron and wait until he finishes praying. I’ve never prayed before. Not something we did in our house. Science was our god. I examine one of my guns, double-checking the clip, until Aaron stands up. We watch for Sam to give the signal to move in. Out in the distance, the forest lights up with a few quick flashes from gunfire. It’s time to move in. Aaron walks forward and I follow close behind. The other men fan out to their locations along the perimeter where the other officers are stationed. Fortunately I don’t have to shoot anyone down; Sam’s already taken care of the officers in our path.

  Aaron and I emerge from the trees and come to a tall wooden fence. He takes out a rope and throws it over one of the spikes, climbs up the side, then jumps down onto the plantation. I toss the duffle bag of weapons over and scale the fence. I’m about to drop down to the other side just as a barrage of bullets comes at us. I lose my grip and hit the ground, landing on my ankle. I’m in too much pain to stand up and run. Bullets plug the fence. Aaron drags me away, firing his handgun in the direction of whoever’s firing at us, and we head toward an irrigation pump and crouch down. Bullets ding against the pipes. We can’t see who’s firing at us, but we keep shooting in their direction.

  I see movement behind a row of solar panels. “He’s over there.” I aim my gun.

  “He’s covered, we’ll just have to make a run for it,” says Aaron, leaping up.

  He sprints toward the warehouses where the plantation workers live. I’m limping behind him, fighting through the pain. The officer chases after us, firing his gun.

  “He’s coming,” I yell to Aaron.

  A bullet whizzes past me and hits Aaron’s leg. He topples to the ground. I stop and turn around and face the officer who’s running toward me, reloading. I can see the white of his teeth and I can hear his labored breathing. Rage surges through my veins and fire burns in my temples. He locks his clip into place. He’s going to kill me. Before he has a chance to take aim, I fire my 9mm and hit him in the chest. The impact knocks him back a few feet and he falls to the ground. Though he’s down for good, I fire three more bullets to make sure he stays there.

  I limp over to Aaron. Blood gushes from the bullet wound in his hamstring. I use some rope to make a tourniquet around his upper thigh. “You’ll be okay. The warehouse is close, lean on me.”

  I help him to his feet, grab the duffle bag and we limp to the warehouse a few hundred yards away. I glance over my shoulder toward the crops—an ocean of orange flames swells through the fields. Zach’s done his part, which means I need to get up to the big house.

  Something’s barricading the entrance to the warehouse.

  Aaron pounds on the door. “Dad!”

  “Let us in, we’re with you.” I pound the door with Aaron, until the men inside pull it open. We tumble into the warehouse and the men gather around us. One of the older men leans down and hugs Aaron. “Son…” He holds him.

  My blood ices over at the sight of their reunion, knowing mine won’t look anything like this. “We’re running out of time.” I drop the bag on the ground and yell to the men, “Grab a weapon and get everyone off the plantation.” I head toward the door, ignoring the splitting pain in my ankle and the jealousy eroding my heart.

  “Good luck,” says Aaron.

  I don’t turn back.

  *

  I get as close as possible to the big house without the officers spotting me. I perch in a tree to scan the surrounding area. Dozens of officers surround the outside perimeter. Even with Sam and Dan, I’m concerned about attacking this many officers. The big house is enormous and it’s not really a house, but more like a small college campus. I peer through my scope to access the situation. Inside it’s not only the overseers of the plantation—their families are in there too. Nobody said anything about families. I don’t want to kill the wives or children, just the men working for my father. A low buzzing begins to crackle in my ears, and a familiar stabbing digs at the base of my skull. I rub my temples and hold my breath to fight it off, but it’s pointless—Zach’s unblocking my frequencies, calling in Denver. I grab onto the tree branches to keep from falling to the ground. I squeeze my eyes tight and slip into darkness. Words appear before me. Dickson is trying to communicate with me again.

  “Denver knows it’s an ambush. They’re shooting to kill. Missiles will be fired. You need to evacuate immediately!”

  “Can you stop them?”

  “Too late. If you want to live, you need to get out of there.”

  “Are you setting me up, Dickson?”

  “No. Get out of there. Get back to Los Angeles. I can help you.”

  I open my eyes, reeling from the splitting pain in my head. I need to get the hell out of this tree and off the plantation before the missiles hit, but there are officers everywhere. I don’t know how much time I have, but probably not long. The humming in my ears fades in and out and I can’t concentrate. There are two officers within close proximity and if I don’t shoot them down I’ll die in this tree. I aim for the one closest to me, hitting him in the gut. He collapses to the ground. The other officer takes cover and starts shooting toward the trees. I use my machine gun to spray bullets in his direction until he finally goes down. I have a small window before any other officers arrive. I drop down and dart through the trees, my ankle burning with each step. There are men chasing after me, firing their guns. Everything’s blurry and I can’t see straight to keep running. I dive into some bushes, knowing I have about ten seconds before they catch up. A machine gun fires a torrent of bullets and blood splatters across the trees. I look around to see the officers are face down in the dirt.

  “Morray!” Zach runs over, pulling me out of the bushes.

  “They know it’s an ambush. They’re coming to wipe out everything—there are women and children in there!” I try to run back to the big house, knowing my efforts are pointless.

  Zach grabs my arm. “It’s too late, we gotta go!”

  Coming in from the distance is a hum—the kind that comes with a missile. He throws me over his shoulder and runs top speed toward the trees. We make it through an opening in the wooden fence just as the missile strikes the big house. The main building and smaller ones surrounding it explode into a million fiery chunks, killing the hundreds of people still inside. I’m not clear on why my father would kill his own people, but it’s evident he’ll stop at nothing to get to me. He wants me dead. Any reserve I might’ve had about going up against him vanishes. I a
m going to terminate the bastard.

  Chapter 18

  After we’re deep enough in the woods, Zach puts me down. My ankle is throbbing, but I’d rather limp along than depend on him. He knew about the families and still went forward with bringing in Denver. The second we get back to the bunker, I’m asking Sarah to teach me how to use the digi-pad so I can control my frequencies. I can’t risk anyone else being in charge of triggering my father’s warheads.

  “Your father’s not messing around, huh?” Zach breaks the silence.

  “There were kids in there. Their blood is on our hands now.”

  “We didn’t know the full scope. We had to go with what we knew. Be stoked—we just got rid of a bunch of bad dudes.”

  “At what cost?”

  “Look, it had to be done. You’re a hero, dude.” He slaps my back. “And now we know where your father stands regarding you.”

  I slow down and let Zach go on ahead. I’m afraid I’ll strangle him. He walks up the hill without looking back. On the other side, I catch up to the multitude of people fleeing the plantation. Their glowing torches snake through the pitch-black woods like lines of traffic on a freeway. How many are there? Two, three hundred? Most of the people are lugging sacks of supplies, some have crates containing chickens and some are shepherding a few cows and sheep. A monumental sense of pride fills me as we make this walk of freedom—we’re making history. At least something good came out of the attack. I push away the thoughts of those families inside the big house and keep moving forward.

  “You must be one of the men who helped get us out?” says an older woman, carrying a sack of grains. She looks like she hasn’t had a decent meal in a while.

  “Yeah. Let me carry that for you.” I take the sack and balance it on my shoulder, ignoring my aching ankle.

  “We’re forever grateful for your bravery.”

  “Just doing the right thing, ma’am.”

  “I don’t recognize you from the plantation.”