Into the Fire

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Into the Fire Page 1

by Victoria Smith




  Table of Contents

  INTO THE FIRE

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  INTO THE FIRE

  VICTORIA SMITH

  SOUL MATE PUBLISHING

  New York

  INTO THE FIRE

  Copyright©2017

  VICTORIA SMITH

  Cover Design by Anna Lena Spies

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Published in the United States of America by

  Soul Mate Publishing

  P.O. Box 24

  Macedon, New York, 14502

  ISBN: 978-1-68291-428-1

  www.SoulMatePublishing.com

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  To Bob – for never giving up on me

  Acknowledgements

  Thanks to my crazy family, friends that are family, and my Bootsquad for all the love, support, and out of the box “what if” sessions. You are all the best of the best of the best.

  Chapter 1

  Olivia watched the darkened street from her second-floor balcony. The patrol would drive through to scan for non-compliance in a few minutes. She glanced over her shoulder, making sure the lights in her house were out. The last thing she needed was to call attention to herself. She couldn’t leave to meet her contact until the units passed.

  She focused on the excess energies in the neighborhood. Two houses down, the Careys were struggling to get their toddler to sleep. Mrs. Carey’s worried lullaby filled Olivia, and the woman’s desperation strengthened Olivia’s resolve.

  Even with the complacency drug in their systems, children didn’t adhere well to the forced government-imposed guidelines. This was the fourth night in a week Jenny Carey couldn’t go to sleep at the specified time. The Careys were in danger of relocation to a far worse place if their child continued to have trouble adapting to the routine.

  Hell, they were all in danger.

  ~ ~ ~

  Olivia sent out a wave of calming energy to Mrs. Carey and the weeping child. Her efforts were rewarded when the baby settled. She was doing this for them, for all the families who struggled to maintain the “perfect” life forced upon them.

  Headlights appeared at the end of the street at the same time a faint blue glimmer flashed near the last house on the right. Her contact. Finally. She’d have at least forty minutes to talk with him between the scheduled patrols. As the patrol drew closer, the spotlight illuminated the precisely placed trashcans three houses down. Olivia backed into her bedroom, closed the sliding door, and adjusted the curtains. She crawled into bed and pulled up the blanket.

  Touching her wrist, she willed her breathing and heart rate to a sleeping state. The biorhythm detection units weren’t reliable, but they didn’t have to be. When the patrols had first started using the faulty technology, one racing heartbeat meant the patrols could get their jollies by intimidating innocent people in the name of non-compliance. Now it was a death sentence. She pressed her fingers into her neck before anger at this whole damned thing gave her away.

  In a few more minutes, she could leave to meet her contact. The information she’d gain tonight would help protect others like her. The ‘safe food’ list would help them avoid the poisons being added to everyday foods that could kill them and news on the growing resistance would go a long way in keeping more than hope alive.

  When the light blared through her window, Olivia had total control over her physical state. But the spotlight lingered long enough to make her wonder if she’d left a sign she wasn’t totally compliant. She’d done everything the new edicts entailed. No more multi-colored flowers, only yellow now, so she’d yanked out every one of her beautiful red and white roses and put in stupid marigolds, planted exactly four inches apart. The burnt-out light on her front porch had been replaced with the only acceptable wattage energy-efficient bulb. Her trash cans were lined up perfectly, and her grass had been mowed to the exact specifications. She had to be imagining how long it was taking the patrol to cruise by her house.

  Finally, the lights moved on. Even though the biorhythm sensors could only filter one set of vitals at a time, Olivia waited until the unit had traveled a few more houses before getting up. She opened her mind to sense Mrs. Carey’s relief at her sleeping child and her own rest. Olivia wasn’t sure why she even bothered to help. Robin Carey conformed completely. If she had any idea the child’s calming had been partially due to Olivia’s efforts, she wouldn’t hesitate to turn her in.

  Olivia closed the door and climbed over the side of the railing and down the wrought-iron artwork she’d painted orange when she and Sandy were forced to move here five years ago. So far, no laws had been passed about the types of homes people lived in or the colors houses were painted. Though, it wouldn’t be long until neighborhoods would be demolished, and everyone forced into the cookie-cutter-style townhouses going up on the outskirts of town.

  Dropping to the grass, Olivia took off in a run toward her contact. She approached the hedges, sending out a silent greeting. Jake responded, but her sense of impending doom didn’t ease. She followed him into the dense bushes, then through the trap door that had been part of an old sewer system. Luckily, the tunnels remained undetected—for now. As the door closed overhead, Olivia finally took a deep breath.

  Jake smiled briefly before turning serious. “I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.” He lit the lantern hanging from the pipes overhead.

  “The patrols have increased. They’ve got to be after someone in the neighborhood.” Hopefully, it wasn’t her.

  “When aren’t they after someone? They’ve brought in extra patrols to clean up Rockhill. They’re saying the crime rate is too high and this is the only way to solve the problem.” Jake adjusted his flashlight. “Word is we’re next. They’re doubling efforts. They’ve already flushed out nearly everyone there. Most have gone underground.”

  She let the information soak in, the weight of it filling her stomach like wet ashes. “How long?”

  “Three days. If we’re lucky. They’re on a freaking witch hunt. Apparently, they’re piping the complacency drug into the ventilation systems of compliant public places one town at a time. There’s no escaping it. People are dropping like flies. Dean Madison was murdered in the street yesterday, and they hadn’t even confirmed his status.


  Olivia choked back the bile and the tears as she nodded, trying not to show that Dean’s death affected her. She couldn’t let anyone see her fear. That would minimize her effort to stop the craziness choking out their individuality, and kill her hope for the future.

  Jake handed her a rolled-up paper. “Current tainted food list. Products will be switched out Saturday night instead of Sunday.”

  Olivia nodded and took the coded list, slipping it into the deep pocket of her black cargo pants. “Why Saturday now?”

  “Probably because of everything that’s happening right now. The resistance is becoming a problem for them. I’m out. My wife and kids should have reached the Northern sector by now. I’m going, too. Not sure who’s taking my place yet. Someone will be here, though. If you run into trouble, call Luke. He knows the right people.” Jake shook her hand, briefly hugging her.

  “I heard Luke went deep underground because of the price on his head, and Matt is in charge now.” She was sure the stuff she knew about the brothers was mostly legend.

  Jake shook his head. “Not true. Like I said, call him. Here’s his number, in case you don’t have it.”

  She nodded. She did have those numbers, but she’d never used them. Jake had given them to her when she’d first joined the resistance, just in case she ever needed their help.

  Olivia checked her watch as Jake disappeared down the tunnel. She’d wait another ten minutes for the patrol to pass again. Then, she’d spend most of the night crafting the list into another set of codes before emailing it to the network. She thought about the awe in Jake’s voice at the mention of Luke Jamison. She had a lot of respect for what Luke and Matt were said to have accomplished, but the stories had to be embellished.

  After an uneventful trip back to her house, she sat at her computer, and deciphered the food list, shaking her head in disgust. Instead of adding the drug to beverages and common canned foods as had been done so far, they would now spray produce and inject it into meat products. It was getting harder to stay away from the stuff, but people like her had to be vigilant. There were no second chances when the drug could kill you.

  Thanks to the uprising long ago, people with special abilities weren’t acceptable members of society. In the late 1990s, an attempt to force them to use their hereditary powers to serve the government had quickly turned into total oppression and elimination when the authorities realized the people weren’t as biddable as desired. By the arrival of the new century, and the breaking up of the nation into “sectors”, life was chaos. What used to be special and sacred within families was now a death sentence.

  The uprising had left a lot of people dead and had broken friendships and families. Olivia didn’t agree with how the point had been made that extra skills should be private, but she could see why there was no other choice. The forced testing and government controls put on people with special abilities was unacceptable. The sector had finally started to see recovery until the governor had stepped down due to health problems. Now things were worse than they’d ever been under their new faceless leader.

  Two months ago, a drug to keep those without abilities tranquil and under control was added to everyday foods. It essentially caused non-abilitied people to be as submissive as sheep, while at the same time, the additive flushed out anyone with gifts. Olivia’s life could change forever if she came in contact. She wasn’t afraid of dying, but the known side effects of insanity or blindness, especially blindness, terrified her.

  And the biorhythm scanners were everywhere—on the street, on traffic lights, even in public restrooms. If you passed one and your vital signs weren’t at normal standards, all hell would break loose, whether you had abilities or not. Olivia had seen it too many times, which was why she’d spend tonight getting the word out. She added a coded line about the plans to clean out Rockhill, wondering how they’d managed to transfer the drug into an inhaled substance.

  Olivia was one of the few left in town with abilities, and she definitely wasn’t doing anything to call attention to herself. Protecting the network and helping the former sector governor regain power, now that his health had improved, were the most important things. After rereading the faux newsletter for her martial arts studio, she hit send. She took a deep breath and searched the surrounding houses with her mind. The Careys slumbered peacefully, as did the Millers across the street.

  A ripple of unsatisfied energy crossed to her, but it was at the edge of her range, too far to fully comprehend. Pressure built in her head, and she quickly reigned in the seeking tendrils to avoid detection. The drugs were bad enough, but several people with special abilities had joined the acting government’s effort to detect anyone with skills who hadn’t succumbed to the complacency drug. Avoiding them was sometimes tricky, but with the help of the resistance, she had a better chance by knowing who to stay away from.

  She shut her computer down, crawling into bed as another patrol cruised by. Lights reflected off the house across the street, lingering far longer than any other check point tonight. Olivia hesitated. This could be a trick or another of her neighbors faced a long trip to a terrible place for not obeying.

  With her hand on her wrist to maintain her pulse at a sleeping rate, she crept to the windows and watched as the officers headed toward the Miller’s front door. Taking a chance, she opened her mind enough to soak in the nuances of what was happening. She couldn’t sense anything.

  They’d visit her next if she was caught peeking through the window. They most likely wouldn’t scan the houses again tonight since it seemed they were already fixated on the Millers. She went up to the attic, so she could watch without being detected, thanks to the special distorting shield her ex-husband had installed over the vent. Grabbing the night vision binoculars, she closed the attic door behind her and went to the cushioned lookout position.

  Tracy Miller was part of the network helping people try to get across the borders. Olivia couldn’t let her be taken. Concentrating her energies, she started a fire in the decorative bowl covering the light bulb in the Miller’s kitchen.

  The smoke alarms blared as the officers reached the front porch. Olivia created more smoke and cool flames to give the illusion of a blaze. Smoke poured out the front door as John and Tracy fled into the yard, coughing. Olivia didn’t know if it would help their situation, but maybe they’d have enough time to come up with something.

  John Miller was on his knees in the front yard. His wife had her hand on the back of his neck, doing her best to calm him and help him catch his breath. Their emotions were shielded, thanks to Tracy’s skill, but her obvious use of the ability sealed their fate. The officers approached, their faces covered by dark masks. Four of the patrol entered the house with fire extinguishers while the other three roughly yanked John to his feet, fastened his hands behind his back, and dragged him to the black van that had parked behind the patrol car.

  Hell. Olivia’s help had arrived too little and too late. The Millers would still be taken away to be tortured and experimented on. As far as Olivia knew, John didn’t have any special skills, but that wouldn’t stop them from exhausting his body until he died from their tests. It happened all the time these days.

  Tracy was shoved, screaming and cursing, into the patrol car while another government van loaded with special agents arrived to do a thorough search and confiscation of the house. Olivia watched as John and Tracy’s personal belongings were thrown into the front yard before bags were loaded into the van. She desperately tried to find a weakness or routine that could be useful to the resistance.

  After the house was sealed with bright yellow warning tape and compliance notice signs were posted on every possible surface, she got up and stretched, fighting the urge to torch the house in retaliation for John and Tracy’s violation. The siren that had replaced the bell on top of the community church two blocks away blared to life, reminding everyone that no one was to be on the street until the alarm stopped. At least they weren’t expected to be slee
ping. Olivia went downstairs and flipped on the government-controlled news channel.

  “Citizen update: May third. John and Tracy Miller of Pine Street were taken into custody this evening after a lighting fixture malfunctioned and started a fire. Authorities state the couple failed to follow the proper use of energy edicts by not using safe light bulbs. In addition, they are charged with garbage disposal violations. Attention to the waste and recycling policy and lighting program is mandatory for all citizens and is to the benefit of us all. For your safety and to better serve you, please remain indoors until the situation has been investigated and cleared by authorities.”

  Olivia’s stomach heaved as she listened, but her concerns were interrupted when her phone rang. She checked the caller I.D., answering it when her ex-husband’s name displayed across the screen.

  “You okay, babe?” Sandy’s husky voice washed over her as tears filled her eyes.

  “Fine.” She fidgeted with the remote, wanting to tell him more, but unable because of the compromised communication system.

  “I saw it on the news. That’s why I called.” Sandy sighed. He and John Miller had been friends. Well, at least they had until Sandy announced his sexual orientation was different. John had decided that despite a long and non-threatening friendship, he and Sandy could no longer hang out. Olivia still hurt for Sandy.

  “It was awful.” Olivia dragged a blanket from the back of the couch and covered her legs.

  “I’m sorry. I really am.” He heaved another long breath. “Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

  “Absolutely. Is Kenneth coming?” She knew Kenneth wouldn’t come. Not anymore.

  “He has to work tonight. Should I bring the wine?”

  “Nope. I’ve got a bottle. See you at six.” Olivia hung up, resting her head against the back of the chair and closing her eyes. Her brain throbbed in tune with the blare of the siren. She finally slept at intervals after finally finding a pair of earplugs.

 

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