by Kyle Andrews
Libby nodded as Aaron spoke to her, but kept her eyes on the doors that would lead her to her mother. She didn't seem particularly eager to walk through those doors, but she did seem eager to get the worst of it out of the way and move on.
“The doctors will come out here once they're done looking her over,” Aaron told her. “I'd be happy to wait with you if you'd like.”
Libby shook her head and said, “Thanks. I'm okay. You should go home.”
Aaron nodded and then looked to Justin, silently telling him to take care of things. Though Justin wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to do in this situation, he accepted the order and allowed Aaron to walk away.
“You want me to stay?” Justin asked, not knowing how far he was supposed to force himself into her family situation.
“Of course,” Libby replied, almost as though she hadn't even considered what she was saying. She was still staring at the doors, with her mind on other things.
The way that she said it, as though it was a forgone conclusion, caught Justin off guard. He wasn't sure what emotion it was that shot through him, but it felt like his chest was tightening for a moment or two.
Another hour and a half of waiting followed. Justin and Libby paced in front of the doors that led into the ER, barely saying a word to each other. This silence wasn't as awkward as it had been in the past. There was simply nothing that needed to be said.
Then, when the doors opened and a nurse stepped out, both of their eyes shot to her at the same time. The waiting was over.
28
The fact that she'd been waiting to see her mother for a month up to this point didn't matter. When the nurse called Libby into the room where her mother was resting, Libby didn't feel a need to run to Amanda. In fact, she almost didn't want to go in at all.
It was an incredibly selfish reaction to have. She knew that, but she didn't want to see what Amanda looked like now. She wanted to remember the woman that was. She wanted things to go back to the way they were. Well, some things.
Walking through that door was stepping into a new life. She and Amanda had never been especially close, but the woman was her mother, and she'd been there for almost every day of Libby's life. She worked to put food on the table. She was there when Libby went to bed at night, and when she woke up in the morning. Seeing Amanda now would be something entirely different. Now, Libby was the one who needed to be there for Amanda. She was the one whose work was providing for the family. She was the one who would have to watch over Amanda, as best she could, for as long as she could.
“You okay?” Justin asked, probably wondering why Libby was staring at the nurse at the door, instead of walking.
Libby nodded, though she wasn't okay. She hated that her first instinct was to lie and turn people away.
Justin put a hand on her shoulder and said, “We'll go in together.”
As his hand gently urged her forward, Libby started to walk toward the nurse, who led the way through hallways and past desks. The place reminded Libby of that day when she first took Amanda to the hospital—the day Uly came to show support and wound up dead because of it.
Of course, this hospital was cleaner than the other one. There weren't any patients sitting on the floor as fluids dripped into their systems. There were others, of course. Flu patients, mostly. But they were all organized in treatment areas, or waiting areas.
There were no HAND officers waiting to capture her, which was a nice change of pace as well. Libby wasn't paying attention to where she was going, so a quick escape would have been impossible.
Eventually, the nurse stopped in front of a room and turned to face Libby. She said, “The doctor will come in to talk to you once he has a chance to look over the tests.”
Libby nodded, though she was only half-listening to the nurse.
“Thank you,” Justin said for her, and the nurse walked away.
“I've seen her. It's still just Amanda,” Justin said to Libby, trying to ease her fears.
But it wasn't just a matter of Amanda still being Amanda. It was a matter of Libby not being Libby anymore. How would she begin to explain that to her mother?
Fortunately, she wouldn't have to do it right away, because Amanda was unconscious, but Libby would have to face that task eventually and she wasn't looking forward to it. Finally, she understood why Uly and Justin would have kept her out of the loop for so long. To say the words out loud would be like jumping off a building. Once it was done, there was no going back.
Justin opened the door and held it for Libby. It was a gentle way of telling her to move, because they couldn't stand there forever.
She walked into the room, expecting to see breathing machines, with wires and tubes going in and out of Amanda. She expected a science experiment. But as she looked at the bed where her mother was resting, Libby saw that Justin was right. It was just Amanda, with maybe one IV in her arm and a couple of wires to keep track of her heartbeat.
Libby walked closer to the bed and looked down at Amanda. She noted that her mother's hair was thinning and turning gray. She wondered if it had been turning before Libby last saw her, or if this was new. Somehow, Libby always pictured her mother as she was a year or two earlier, in peak condition.
Amanda's eyes were sunken. Her cheekbones were more prominent, due to weight loss. Her breathing was raspy and shallow. Her skin looked pale and thin.
But it was just Amanda. The same woman that was there for Libby every morning and every night, for as long as Libby had been alive.
Libby hadn't been raised to believe in the importance of family. In the world she lived in, family members came and went, according to their assignments. Life lessons were taught in schools. Parents were simply nighttime caretakers, feeding kids and making sure they got to bed. They spent maybe six hours per day with their children, which was less than some teachers and coaches.
Values, morals, and even the way kids spoke, were all things that they learned at school, right along with reading and math. Parents were expendable. They were roommates.
But Justin was right about Libby. No matter how many times she was told these things, she never really absorbed them. She felt a responsibility toward Amanda. It was her job to make sure that she was taken care of. Amanda was her mother. The same blood ran through them, give or take a library.
Libby had been worried about what it would feel like to finally see Amanda in this condition, but she never thought that she would feel relieved. And she was. Not because the situation was bright and happy, because it wasn't. It was horrible. But she was relieved to finally know where Amanda was. Safe or not. Healthy or not. They were in the same room. For a few minutes, that would be good enough.
Libby took a chair beside her mother's bed and sat there, once again waiting. Justin was standing in the corner, trying not to intrude. He didn't seem to understand that at some point, he'd earned his place in that room. He belonged there, not just as support, but as a member of their strange, messed up family. The realization caught Libby off guard. She'd spent so much time being angry with him that she never realized why she expected more of him than she would have expected from anyone else.
He was family, and family meant something.
She wasn't going to ask herself exactly where he fit into that family just yet. She was far too tired to be thinking about such things. Instead, she would just sit and wait.
29
As the hours passed, Justin stood in the corner of Amanda's room, watching both Amanda and Libby, waiting to see which one of them would wake up first. The doctor hadn't been in to speak with Libby yet, but when a nurse came to check Amanda's vitals, she told Justin that they were hopeful that Amanda would wake up soon.
He wasn't sure that he believed the nurse. He hadn't seen Amanda show any sign of waking up when he was picking her up or carrying her across the city. Yet, she might have woken briefly, or come close to it, when he was at school. He wanted to believe that she would come out of this, but something about the situa
tion felt final to him. He couldn't imagine Amanda's eyes ever opening again.
While standing in the corner of the room, Justin must have said a hundred prayers on her behalf. He couldn't think of anything else to do and he couldn't do nothing at all, so he prayed. It was what he always fell back on when there were no other options.
Amanda probably wouldn't have appreciated his prayers. She would either think that he was crazy, or get angry at him for performing ancient rituals over her without consent. It would depend on which type of citizen she was.
Though most people didn't believe in any sort of religion anymore, the idea of something bigger than humanity was hard to shake. While most people were raised without a belief in God, and would laugh off such silly superstitious notions without a second thought, there was just enough of a question in some people to make them uneasy. They didn't know what they truly believed, but they felt something more than what they could see or touch. They might believe in something as small as ghosts or the concept of luck. They might carry a charm in their pocket, or perform some small ritual so their team would win the next game.
In those people, faith existed. Blind, directionless faith which could easily make them scared of ideas that they couldn't understand. They were taught that religion was dangerous, so they believed it. And if one of those people caught you praying for them, they would probably feel violated in some way that they couldn't understand or explain.
Maybe it was unethical to pray for someone who would neither want, nor appreciate that prayer, but Justin couldn't help it. Ever since he discovered his faith, prayer had come as naturally to him as breathing. It was the thing that kept him sane in a crazy world. At times, he did it without even realizing that he was doing it. Did it help? Well, he hadn't been killed so far.
Morning was quickly closing in on Justin. He would need to get to school, or risk someone noticing his absence and asking questions. The question was, should he wake Libby before he left?
He decided against it. There was nothing to gain from his waking her. It wouldn't help Amanda at all, and Libby needed the rest. So quietly, Justin walked to the bed and looked down at Amanda, knowing that it could very well be the last time he ever saw her. He wanted to say a proper goodbye, just in case, but he didn't want to wake Libby. He wouldn't have known what to say anyway.
Instead of speaking, Justin took Amanda's hand and gave it a squeeze. She didn't squeeze back. Her hand was limp, though warmer than before. Her color was a little bit better too. That might have been the lighting, but it left Justin with a bit of hope as he moved away from her.
He looked to Libby. She was still asleep in the chair. It was the first time that he could remember her looking peaceful. He stayed there for a moment, just watching. Then he walked out of the room, through the maze of hallways and out of the ER.
As he walked through the Garden, he looked at all of the people who were getting back to their routine after the previous day's excitement. There was far less chatter among them now. They seemed focused.
“How is she?” Aaron asked, as Justin nearly passed right by him without noticing.
Upon hearing Aaron's voice, Justin stopped and turned to him. He said, “Still sleeping. Both of them are.”
“You did good work, tracking Libby's mother down.”
“I didn't think you'd appreciate my wanting to bring her in.”
“Exceptions to every rule.”
Justin nodded, nearly walking off and getting on with his day, but something about Aaron's tone caused him to stop. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to question the man in charge, considering that he had no authority of his own to wield, but he did it anyway. He asked, “What's the plan for Libby now? Now that you know what's inside of her, what happens? Do you bring her back to the hospital and try again?”
He was ready to argue with Aaron. Bringing Libby back to the hospital would be foolish. HAND would be waiting for her to return. They would probably have extra patrols of every hospital in the city and beyond. If Libby stepped one foot through those doors, she would be taken down. She'd already escaped HAND twice. Odds were, she wouldn't be able to do it again.
Aaron studied Justin's eyes, as though he could see right into his soul and judge his character. It was an intimidating stare, but Justin didn't look away. If Aaron wanted to judge him, he was welcome to it. Justin had nothing to hide.
“When was the last time you slept?” Aaron asked.
Justin didn't answer, except with a shrug. He wasn't sure if he would count his night watching over Amanda in his apartment as 'sleep', since it wasn't very restful.
Moving on, Aaron asked, “You have to get to school, right?”
“Not for a little while.”
“If you show up wearing the same clothes as yesterday?”
“Nobody will care. If someone does, I'll tell them I spent the night with a girl. It's true enough.”
“If they ask for a name?”
“I'll tell them it's none of their business,” Justin answered, then asked, “What's the plan for Libby?”
Aaron started walking, and gestured for Justin to walk with him. As they made their way across the Garden, Aaron told him, “We're not sending Libby back to the hospital. I don't have any plans for her to leave the Garden, if I can help it. Does that sound about right to you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“But the world doesn't stop. Life goes on. We need to know what she has inside of her.”
Justin stopped walking as he realized what Aaron was talking about. He said, “You're going back to the hospital for one of the scanners?”
“Not the same hospital, but yes. They've started implementing the system all around the city. Scanning everyone who goes in for flu treatments or broken bones. Building the foundation for their new ID system. They'd probably implement it tomorrow if they could. Except for one problem.”
“Libby.”
“Every time she's scanned, that library comes up and they have to wipe it from the system again. If the wrong person does the scanning, the genie is out of the bottle.”
“Sir?” Justin asked, failing to understand the reference.
“It's an old story. Forget it. Needless to say, they can't afford to have Libby wandering around the city, and neither can we.”
“I haven't heard about any new ID system.”
“You wouldn't have. Been scanned lately?”
“No,” Justin answered. Then he remembered, “Well, the school nurse took my temperature.”
“Then assume you've been scanned.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that. Until we know otherwise.”
“What is this new system? Should I be worried?”
“Yes,” Aaron replied. “But that's what we're trying to stop. Go to school. Let us handle it, and don't use any fake Civvies.”
He walked off, ending the conversation before Justin could ask any further questions, and leaving Justin with no idea what to think.
He went back to Libby's room, where he found Ammo sound asleep with his head on her pillow. He fed and walked the dog before leaving the Garden and heading toward the school.
The world felt off to him somehow. The feel of the air on his skin, or the color of the light. He couldn't quite put his finger on what was wrong, but it was there. The world had changed, and it didn't feel like a change for the better.
Libby was being hunted. The government was building a new ID system that would bind Freedom's wrists even tighter than they already were. It seemed like no matter how hard they tried to make progress toward their ultimate goal of freedom, they were always knocked back five steps in the process.
Justin was barely paying attention to where he was going as he walked toward the school. He'd walked the path hundreds of times before, so it was second nature to him now. He didn't look at the people or the buildings that he was passing. He just kept his head down and walked through the streets, keeping his eyes on the pavement beneath his feet and focusing o
n all of his worries.
When he walked across a patch of spray painted sidewalk, he almost didn't notice. His mind dismissed it as random graffiti at first—Nonsense, written by bored teenagers. Then he reached the head of that patch and saw the words which forced him to pay attention: 'THIS IS YOUR FIRST AMMENDMENT. READ IT. KNOW IT. LIVE IT.'
He stopped and looked down at the sidewalk where he was standing. There, written in red paint—and obviously with the use of a stencil—was the First Amendment to the United States Constitution, dated December 15, 1791:
'Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.'
The streets of the city were littered that day, with words that had been written hundreds of years earlier. They were displayed in the color of blood, for all the world to see. No matter how quickly the authorities worked to erase those words, there was no way to prevent hundreds—possibly thousands—of people from seeing them.
For the first time in his life, Justin had to fight to keep the smile off of his face.
30
As Libby woke and realized where she was, she sat up in her seat and rubbed her eyes. She hadn't expected to fall asleep. She didn't want to sleep.
“What time is it?” she asked Justin, but when she looked to his corner, he wasn't there. She looked around the room, but he was gone. She was alone with Amanda.
There were no windows in the room, for obvious reasons. There was no clock either. So if she wanted to find out what time it was and how long she had been sleeping, she would have to get up.
