Breaking Order: Book 1 (Breaking Order Series)

by Catherine Kopf

On the egg-shell colored mask, a black swirl was carved on the right side. A single red line was painted down both eye sockets. A small smile was curved and sculpted into the mask, slightly reminding me of a clown. The figure’s jacket had an armband on the right shoulder. This armband had a fiery bird encased in a circle.

  “Why hide your face behind a mask? Hiding something?” I questioned.

  “You’re the ones hiding something…” the masked boy teased.

  He took a deck of cards out of his jacket and shuffled them in his hand. The black and red deck reminded me of The Regime, and the figure’s mask just confirmed it.

  “Out of the way before you get clobbered,” Wes paused, “We don’t want to start trouble.”

  “You already have. Return the girl,” the masked boy ordered.

  The words were strange coming from his mouth. It was almost like a grown sophisticated man, though the voice of the figure— and his stature— was young and small in size. He was probably a year younger than me.

  “I’m not putting her back in there. You’re killing her.” I clenched my teeth.

  “Suit yourself. Tell me what you see.” the masked boy stopped shuffling the cards and snapped his finger.

  Without warning, the room shifted. Copies of the people on the stretchers appeared like reflections around us. The floor spiraled below us, sending my mind to a dizzy state.

  Wes grabbed a hold of my hand, but he swayed to the left side. June dropped to the floor below her, knocking her head against the chamber her body laid in before we rescued her.

  “We have to do something…” I said.

  The masked boy flipped a coin in his hands and let the gold metal melt in his fingertips. With a wave of a hand, the tiled floor below us quaked and jumped up tile by tile and rocked like a wave across the floor. Shooting stars— probably the lights in the lab room— fell to the floor and shocked the ground below.

  Without weapons, I had no choice but to fight the old-fashioned way: fists and wits. Swaying to one side, I attempted to punch the masked boy. He leapt away from us. My breaths panted like a dog. Wiping the sweat from my face, I dodged another attack from the lights.

  “Wow, here I was expecting you to be tough,” the masked boy teased.

  “This isn’t fair,” Wes complained.

  “Fair’s subjective.” the masked boy laughed.

  He grabbed his card deck and threw the cards forward. Their edges sharpened mid-air. There was no way we would just get paper cuts from a hit.

  “Get down!” Wes pushed me to the ground.

  A scream sounded behind me.

  “June…“ my lip quivered as I turned to face her.

  A card hit her in the chest. Blood spilled from her mouth in a chaotic display. The world still rocked around me, but even I knew she was dead.

  “You monster…” I whispered.

  I turned back to the masked boy, but he had disappeared. The room slowly returned to normal. The floorboards calmed like a low tide near the ocean. Placing a hand on my chest, I crawled to June. Tears streamed from my eyes.

  “Calista, we can’t do anything for her now. We have to go,” Wes said.

  “No, no. We can’t leave…” my voice croaked.

  “You have to. If we don’t, those people getting tested on might join her too.”

  I couldn’t deny Wes was right. He was. I promised to help Wes find his sister and protect other Dreamers like her. I couldn’t do anything for June now.

  “Okay,” I stood up and bowed my head, “Let’s go, Wes.”

  Wes nodded. The two of us trudged out of the room with heavy hearts.

  The Regime was a monster. My mind cemented that thought into my brain. No one could change my mind. Yet, another thought lingered in the background: Who was the boy with the mask?

  Even if I never knew his real face, the mask would serve as a reminder of The Regime’s illusions. It hid its true form behind a mask of propaganda and brainwashing. Now that Wes and I knew, danger grew stronger than ever. We would be killed on site, but we strived to continue on.

  Dreaming would never die in us. Wes and I’s determination terrified The Regime. We would avenge June and all the others The Regime killed. I couldn’t give up now.

  Twenty-Five:

  Wes pointed to the furthest room from the entrance. “I wonder what’s in there.”

  My father’s voice echoed from the end of the hallway.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Why kill some Dreamers and experiment on others?”

  “There’s a connection. The Dreamers here look like they’re mostly teens and tweens. Even the ones getting drained fit that description.”

  “But why?”

  “Let’s see what your father’s up to. Maybe we’ll find out.”

  “How will we enter without being spotted?”

  Wes pointed to a vent over us and cautiously removed the covering. I nodded and we entered the small space. It was cramped and sweltering hot, but we made it to the room Father was in before exiting.

  We hid behind a desk where we could see my father. Black and maroon covered the room with checkered tiles on the floor. The teens were tied at the wrists in chairs. Blindfolds covered their eyes. A scientist stood beside each of them holding onto the back of their blindfold. The kids struggled to get free.

  “Remove their blindfolds,” Father commanded.

  The scientists removed the blindfolds off the prisoners. Under the light, they squinted their temporarily blinded eyes.

  I counted nine girls and eight boys. All were of different skin tones and heights, but all appeared just as terrified.

  “Stand up. Stand up now!” Father yelled.

  Some children stood and others were forced to as if doing a military academy drill.

  “Mommy!” whined a small, youthful girl on the left side of Father. Her doll-like face was pale and ghostlike.

  She appeared the youngest one out of the prisoners, probably six or seven years old. The others ranged older, with less youthful faces. The oldest kids of the bunch were probably in their late teens judging their height and structure.

  The scientist beside Father mocked her. “Your mommy?”

  One of the older boys with blonde hair spoke up. “Why are we here?”

  “If you wish to stay alive and pass this phase, you need to get a good scoring. Otherwise… you’ll have to pay the price,” Father said.

  I gasped. Would he kill them just like any other common criminals?

  “I want to go home,” the little girl cried.

  “And what happens after phase one?” another one of the older boys asked, raising an eyebrow. This one had dark colored hair and an olive skin tone.

  “Phase One sees if you have potential. Phases Two and Phase Three test your mental and physical abilities. Siblings will be tested together for their bond. Those who pass go on to Phase Four,” the scientist informed.

  “But what happens in Phase Four?” a boy in his early teens asked. His hands fidgeted in his coat pockets.

  My father smiled. “None of your concern. Only one person’s ever gotten that far, a lot come close."

  “I want my mommy!” Tears streamed down the little girl’s face.

  “You’ll go first.” Father dragged the little girl in front of the group and presented her to the scientist.

  “What can you do, kid?” the scientist asked.

  You could tell he was doubtful of the girl's abilities.

  “Do you promise I can see my mommy if I show you?” the little girl cooed.

  Father said her with a smile, “Just show us.”

  The little girl sang. It wasn't anything special, but still pretty for her age. The scientist rolled his eyes. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew into the room, swirling gently around the little girl. A smile etched across Father’s face.

  “Enough!" Father paused, "Can you do anything else?”

  “No, sir,” the little girl said, showing off her good manners.

  “She needs more deve
lopment, especially since she doesn’t have a brand yet. Might be more useful as time goes on,” the scientist stated.

  “Move to the middle,” my father ordered.

  The little girl did as she was told and moved to the center of the room without speaking a word.

  “Next,” the scientist said.

  Father pushed a boy forward— the one with the dark hair and olive skin tone. His face was youthful, yet stern. I guessed he was my age or possibly a year older.

  “Show us what you can do, kid,” my father said. He was already tired of watching this. Maybe he hadn’t gotten sleep since I left.

  The boy looked at him with disgust. “I need a toolbox.”

  “What’s your family name, kid?” the scientist asked. Curiosity filled his eyes for the first time since Wes and I entered the room.

  “Liu. Liu Xiang,” the boy stated with pride.

  “The name is famous for a Chinese family of inventors, sir. The tools will be necessary.” the scientist spoke with jealousy.

  Father smiled, impressed with the discovery. “It’s rare for a Dreamer to have a talent involving inventing. Some create impossible objects— rare feats. You come from Jīnlóng, Liu?”

  “My given name is Xiang. Don’t disrespect my family’s surname,” Xiang answered.

  The scientist looked at his laptop. “According to our database, it’s run in his family for fourteen generations.”

  Xiang sighed. “Are you getting the tools or not?”

  Father chuckled. “A talent like yours deserves to at least reach Phase Two. Go right.”

  Xiang nervously maneuvered to the right side. This process continued until there were six on the right and ten on the left. The little girl was in the middle.

  The six on the right were Xiang, a small boy who bended earth, a girl slightly older with excelled sewing skills and could heal, a brother and sister seemingly older than the others with a talent for sewing and wielded water, and a girl slightly younger than them who could cook.

  Each who failed received a black wristband for each wrist and a black ankle band for each foot to prevent them from making harsh movements or using their powers.

  “What’s going to happen to them?” Tears rolled down my face.

  “They’re the ones going to be killed.” Wes clenched his fist.

  “Take this little girl to the brainwashing chamber so she can forget any of this happened. Then, return her to her mother,” the scientist commanded the guards leading her away.

  “What’s so special about Dreamers who are siblings?” I asked.

  Wes sighed. “Siblings have a bond that makes them stronger, especially when they accomplish tasks together. The older one is a leader and smarter, and the younger is more powerful and controlled.”

  “But what about twins?” I asked curiously.

  “Dreamer can’t have twins. Something in the Dreamers’ genetics prevents it, maybe the power genes. It’s always siblings of different ages or an only child.” Wes paused.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  Wes looked at his watch. “Thirty minutes before Ambert and Enya log onto the computer.”

  I nodded. “We need to free these guys and go.”

  “Lock up those ten. I'll execute them later. I have a family matter to deal with,” Father ordered.

  “Still can’t find the boy, sir? I doubt The Commander will be pleased,” the scientist said.

  “It isn’t just him now. I’m afraid the boy has kidnapped my daughter, Calista,” Father explained.

  My eyes widened. He thought Ambert kidnapped me? Ambert would never do that, even if I was loyal to The Regime!

  “That changes nothing. Your time is divided and The Commander wants this project to move to the final stages. We need Ambert to be found if we’re to do that. He divides your time too much,” the scientist complained.

  “I understand.” Father bowed his head.

  “And she’s getting testy. The Commander says he’s having trouble getting his top lieutenant from ripping your head off herself,” the scientist informed.

  He shifted his eyes away from Father and towards the crowd of Dreamers for a split second.

  “I don’t care about her threats. Only what The Commander thinks concerns me,” Father said.

  “You should care, Knight. She might replace you one day if you’re not careful. She threatened your daughter’s life, remember? You’re best to remember that.”

  Father nodded. “I remember. That brat will never touch Calista, especially after what happened to her mother.”

  ‘Mom? What does a lieutenant have to do with me and Mom?’

  I didn’t know what they were talking about or who Father should be afraid of, but I knew what I was about to do. I would stage the biggest jailbreak in The Regime’s short history.

  Twenty-Six:

  He turned to leave with a couple of guards. With them, they took the six who passed Phase One to prepare for the next stage of the tests. After the black coated scientist and the six’s guards left, Wes and I revealed ourselves from our hiding place.

  A guard spotted us. “Hey! This is a restricted area. Leave now or...”

  Wes kicked him and sent him to the floor. He took off the guard's helmet and knocked him out with his fist. So much for negotiating like Ambert wanted.

  Guess it was time to put Father’s training to good use.

  I disarmed one of the guards beside Wes and punched the guard’s helmet. I shook my hand, shaking off any pain. A shot was fired at me, but it missed.

  These guards weren’t trained as efficiently as the army officers and the military were. Another guard shot at me again, barely missing my head before I disarmed him, kicked him, forced him to fall to the ground, took off his helmet, and slammed him into the desk.

  Wes was busy with the other guards. He was punching and dodging and attempting to kick them. One of the guards I tried to knock over dodged my attack and hit my nose. It bled, and I wiped my face of any blood.

  I drop-kicked him with little success. Feeling woozy after my one attempt, Wes grabbed a gun off one of the guards he knocked out and shot him.

  “You okay?” Wes asked.

  “How are you better than me? My father taught me to defend myself!” I crossed my arms like a child.

  Wes laughed. “I’ve had years of practice. Between Henry and my father’s tapes on martial arts, I’m prepared to fight.”

  “Even with a gun? If I would have gotten a hold of…”

  Wes placed his hand on my lips. “Just shut up. We’ve got to hurry to The Information Department, remember?”

  I nodded.

  Wes and I found the keys for the ten prisoners off of one of the guards. We took off the armbands on the kids’ hands and feet, and we rushed through The Science Department out to the entrance. A siren could be heard behind us.

  “Who are you? Why save us?” one of the girls asked, her chocolate eyes widened in alarm.

  “I’m Calista. These people don’t deserve to treat you this way. We’re here to set things right,” I said as the girl smiled.

  We were back on the pavement and the front lawn, but we kept running. Though my lungs begged me to stop, we couldn’t.

  Shots fired at us, and a couple people were shot and killed, never to breathe again. Blood spilled on the pavement, coating the street in red. I climbed the fence, grabbing a small girl’s hand. Cries of agony sounded before we were out of The Regime’s immediate reach.

  “We’re free!” one of the older girls chuckled.

  “Where should we go?” a girl asked, squinting her grey eyes.

  “Do you see that mountain?" Wes pointed to a mountain ahead, the siren still blazing behind us, "Head up there and stay out of sight.”

  “Thank you! Oh thank you so much!” a blonde haired girl hugged me.

  I smiled. “You’re welcome.”

  Wes turned towards The Information Department, gesturing with his hand for me to follow.

  “You�
��re not coming with us?” a boy asked.

  “I still have to save more people. I’ll be back,” I promised.

  “Why risk your life?” The girl who still hugged me titled her head.

  I turned to face her releasing myself from her hug, “ I want help and protect people like you. People need to know dreaming isn’t wrong. Can’t you all agree?”