Path of Totality, page 2
Jonathan stared at the ground and sniffled. It wasn’t fair. I had my dad for fifteen amazing years. Jonathan only had five. Stupid war.
“You just had to mention your dad, didn’t you?” Mom set her laser next to her and pulled Jonathan into her lap.
Two years had passed since Dad got killed in an attack on his army base. Some of the first causalities of war. Jonathan still shut down whenever anyone mentioned him.
“I’m sorry, kiddo.” I patted his hand.
He stared at me, tears running down his cheeks. Mom held him until he calmed down enough to eat. When the half-eaten cookie fell from his hand, she settled him onto the mound of pillows and tucked a blanket around him. She kissed his forehead and scooted over to me.
Mom and I sat together and watched as the NNC alternated between the rescue attempts and newscasters speculating over what had happened. I rested my head on her shoulder.
I jerked awake when an announcer started talking about Operation Resolution, our country’s last-ditch contingency plan. My heart raced. I knew what was coming. We’d talked about it at school, but I’d been stupid enough to believe it would never actually happen.
CHAPTER 3
JADZIA
Mom gasped and grabbed my hand. “No.” We locked eyes. Hers were wide and glistened with tears. “Not you too.”
Operation Resolution. The military draft, with a twist. Five years ago, during the Second Cold War, the President announced new terms for the Conscription Act and changed the name. Operation Resolution required all males and females over sixteen to register for military service. The government could call us to serve our country at any time.
Being seventeen, I now had seven days to report to the closest military recruitment office and take a physical. If I passed, I’d be forced into whichever branch of the service required my presence the most.
The vid on my PCD shook. It wasn’t the feed. My hand shook. I shut off my PCD and implant. I couldn’t breathe. If I hadn’t been sitting, I’d have fallen. The room was too small. I wrenched my hand out of Mom’s. “I have to get out of here.”
I jumped up and shot out the door. Mom’s voice trailed behind me, but I didn’t go back. Halfway through the house, I stumbled over Jonathan’s shoes. A crash sounded. I’d knocked something over, but didn’t care. I kept going. When I stepped outside, a chill shot through me. I hadn’t bothered to grab a jacket.
I dove for my bike. Fumbling to unlock my helmet from its holder. When the helmet sprung free, it fell from my hands. I caught it before it hit the ground.
Mom grabbed my arm. “What are you doing?”
I shook her off. “Leaving.” I jammed the helmet on my head, straddled the bike, and started it.
“You can’t go out there.” Mom stood in front of me.
I backed up and dodged her. Her face crumpled. A twinge of guilt gripped me, but I needed to leave.
I didn’t think about a destination while I flew down the empty streets. Even the parking lots of the grocery store and the movie theater were empty. Everyone else must be home with their loved ones. Except me. Not that it mattered. However far I ran, I couldn’t outrun this.
The implant in my ear that connected to my PCD feed also functioned as a tracker. It only turned on if I did something criminal—like murder someone, take part in a terrorist attack, or dodge the draft. I’d never had a reason to care about being tracked before. Now, I didn’t relish the possibility. Maybe I’d be able to hack it. Then again, even if I got away with it, should I dodge the draft? Dad would have been crushed. I screamed over the sound of the bike’s engine.
Thirty minutes later, my adrenaline ebbed, and I realized I didn’t know where I was. Shivering, I pounded the handlebar with my fist. “Great. Just great.”
I opened my PCD and swiped past the NNC. I didn’t want to see a repeat of the announcement. It played repeatedly in my mind. I punched in Brent’s address. He could make me feel safe, no matter what. I transferred the screen to the display in the corner of my helmet’s face shield and took off.
Silent darkness blanketed Brent’s house. Any other night that would seem normal, but not tonight. Brent and his parents were probably awake, but just to be sure, I sent him a message.
He opened the front door a few seconds later. I hopped off the bike, hung my helmet from the seat, and plugged into one of his extra charging stations.
When I stepped through the door, he tucked me under his arm. “Come on. Mom and Dad passed out about an hour before the announcement. Figured I’d let them sleep.”
Everything in the familiar front room was in the same place it had been two days ago—gray couches, dark wood tables, and beige walls hung with pictures of Brent and his parents. But today, the smiles in the pictures seemed sad and knowing.
I pulled away from Brent. “What are we going to do?”
He didn’t answer right away. When he did, I didn’t want to hear it. “I’ve wanted to join the military for a while now. It’s only been yo…” He dropped his eyes. “I mean, Mom and Dad who held me back.”
“Yeah. You’re dying to go out there and get killed. Just like my dad. Be a hero and die for your country.”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s not the same thing. Your dad’s entire base got obliterated. It’s been two years. They know how the Zealots think now. They can stop those kinds of attacks. An entire base hasn’t been taken out since.”
“But anything might happen.”
“You’re exactly right. And we might be just fine.”
“We might also get killed.”
He glanced toward the stairs. “Shh. I don’t want to fight with you.”
I crossed my arms and stared at him.
“Don’t give me that look.”
“I don’t understand how you are so excited about going and getting killed. Or killing someone else.” I shuddered.
Brent put a hand on my shoulder. “Look, I don’t want to hurt anyone. It’s not about that. It’s about doing what’s right and protecting the lives of those I love. If I have to take out a few Zealots to do it.” He shrugged. “Then that’s the way it has to be. They’re the ones who started this. And we’ll finish it.”
I scoffed. He didn’t understand what the Zealots were like. I’d never showed him the messages. Dad meant them for Mom’s eyes only, but he’d underestimated my hacking abilities. He always filled his messages to me with good news and fluff. I wanted to know the truth, so I hacked into mom’s PCD. My hacking skills were still new at the time, so it took a month. When I got in, I had access to everything she did.
Zealots thrived on creating fear. When things first started going crazy in Europe, they only targeted churches, temples, mosques, and other religious gathering places. As their cause gathered support, they attacked companies which operated under religious principles or where the CEO professes a specific belief system. They saw people who believed in a higher power as bigots and haters, but they became bigots and haters themselves. So stupid. Who cared which god people worshiped or if they did at all? Apparently, the Zealots did.
I crossed my arms. “And if you die while you’re protecting your country?”
He gave me his crooked smile, the one that always made me want to throw my arms around him. “It will be worth it.”
CHAPTER 4
JADZIA
My Dad’s voice sounded in my ears. I stretched and burrowed into the pillow. Wait. Dad? That didn’t seem right. I breathed deeply. The smell of eggs and bacon hit my nose. My legs and back ached. I groaned. Was I on a couch? I opened my eyes.
Brent looked down at me. “You gonna sleep all day?”
What. The. Heck? Heat flashed through me. What was I doing with him? We’d never spent the night together.
I threw off a blanket and forced my legs over the side of the couch. “Where did this blanket come from?” I held my hand up. “Better question. What am I doing here?”
Oh right. Operation Resolution, riding around, and ending up here. I ran a hand through my hair. “What time is it?”
“Are you always this alert when you wake up?” He laughed. “It’s about noon. I figured I’d let you sleep longer, but Mom thought you should eat something.” He set a plate of real breakfast food on the coffee table in front of me.
Mom. Oh, no. “I’ve got to call my mom. She’s going to kill me.” I opened my hand.
Before I connected, he put his hand on top of mine and closed it. “I messaged her right after you fell asleep last night. Well, this morning, I guess.”
Whew. “Thanks. I should get home, though.” I stood and started toward the door.
“Wait a minute.” Mrs. Newhams came in the room holding a glass of water. Her red-rimmed eyes were bloodshot, and a grim line replaced her usual smile. She set the cup next to my plate. “When did you eat last?”
My stomach growled. I ate an MRE in the basement with Jonathan over twelve hours ago.
Brent’s parents always used actual food. The stuff from the ground or animals, instead of the fabricated mix of protein, carb, and vitamins, most of us ate. The fabricated stuff replicated the texture and flavor of real meat and vegetables—decent enough if you didn’t know any better, but I preferred the real thing. Just another reason I ate here often.
My brain warred with my stomach. Brent’s casual attitude last night about being drafted still irked me. Even fresh food didn’t have enough power to keep me there, especially since the initial shock of the announcement hadn’t worn off yet.
It’s not like Brent and I resolved anything last night. With nothing left to say, I’d flopped down on his couch and found a dumb movie in his Holo-screen collection. Something to take my mind off everything. At some point, I guess I dropped off.
Now he stood there looking at me with a goofy grin on his face. Ugh. Why couldn’t I just stay mad at him? Stupid, I know.
Mrs. Newhams sensed my hesitation and motioned toward the plate again. “Your mom will never forgive me if I let you leave before you eat.”
My stomach and Brent’s mom won. I took a bite, and she smiled.
“It’s great.” I managed through a mouth full of food.
“I’m glad. Well, I guess I’ll leave you guys alone. I have to keep trying to check in with my sister.” She headed down the hall toward their office.
I devoured the omelet, sausage, and fruit. Brent settled in next to me, his presence a huge emotional interference. To distract myself from his closeness, I turned on their Holo-screen. It defaulted to NNC, as it always did when important information was being delivered.
The scenes changed from last night. Some smoke had cleared, revealing rubble and destruction. Firefighters battled blazes in offices, labs, and production plants. The Zealots even blew up apartment buildings this time. Had they meant to destroy the lives and homes of regular people, or were they just collateral damage? I pinched the bridge of my nose. So much carnage just because people couldn’t get along.
The feed switched to Houston. Groups of people trudged through the debris, looking for survivors.
I messaged Carina again. Uncle Nick had to be home by now, even with all the destruction and the mad rush to get out of the blast zones. Within a few seconds, she called. Panic clearly visible on her face and her red hair looked like she’d just rolled out of bed.
“Z, you’re okay. Thank goodness. I couldn’t get through to anyone.”
She and Uncle Nick were the only ones allowed to call me Z. “Are you guys okay?”
She shook her head. Tears spilled down her cheeks.
“Carina. Tell me.”
She struggled to control herself. Her voice broke, but through her sobs, I made out what she said. “Dad’s building . . . was c-c-completely destroyed. We haven’t heard f-from him since yesterday morning.”
Brent put a hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
“Maybe he’s still okay.” The words sounded hollow, even to me, but Uncle Nick—dad’s twin brother—couldn’t be dead.
If Uncle Nick died, Dad was really gone. No more calls where I could see my father’s face. No double-takes at family gatherings when Uncle Nick walked into the room. No hugs from the man I knew wasn’t my father, but looked like him, laughed like him, and sometimes even spoke like him.
Carina took a bunch of deep breaths. “It’s been more than a day. He’d have gotten in touch with us by now.”
“Maybe he’s just hurt.” I needed some remnant of my father to still exist in this world.
She shook her head. “Have you seen the footage? There’s nothing left. No survivors from his part of the city.”
A familiar weight settled on my chest. I leaned into Brent. He tightened his grip on my shoulder and pulled me close. He knew what Uncle Nick meant to me.
Carina turned her head. “Mom’s calling me, Z. I’ll call you back if I hear anything else. I’m so glad you’re okay. Love you.”
I choked out. “Love you too.”
I closed my hand and stared at the floor, but didn’t see it. My mind conjured an image of Uncle Nick sitting in his office, just like I used to imagine Dad at his desk on base, working on some report or something. Then the building exploded.
Carina was right. Just like with Dad, there would be no survivors. I clenched my fists. My stomach rebelled against the food. I gritted my teeth. I imagined ripping apart every Zealot I could find.
Brent’s arm never left my shoulders. I lowered my head to my knees and wrapped my arms around myself. My breath came in gasps. My head swam. Darkness rushed up to greet me and I let it take me.
CHAPTER 5
JADZIA
I made it home from Brent’s house before the new curfew, at 7:00 p.m., went into effect that night. Life had been quiet since the attacks. People stayed in their homes, schools canceled classes, and most stores closed. Drones and bots roamed the streets, delivering food and other essentials. Even in small cities and the suburbs, people were afraid. We waited for the second shoe to drop. When would more cities get hit?
Not to mention, no one really knew who did this. Zealots weren’t from a specific country or even an area within a country. They were regular people who went to work every day, lived in regular neighborhoods, and sent their kids to regular schools. And after their regular day, they met and planned to kill thousands of people. It’s no wonder they thought people who believed in a god were nuts. Any god who allowed such evil to exist or even caused it to happen wasn’t much of a god.
“Whatcha doing?”
I whirled around. Jonathan stood in my bedroom doorway.
I grinned at him. “Hey, Buddy, come in.”
He scanned the mess in my room. I had spent the last few days packing and wondering what branch of the military they would throw me into. Clothes and suitcases cluttered my room. Piles of stuff I thought I would need—and piles of stuff I figured I wouldn’t—littered the floor.
To be completely honest, I still didn’t know whether I was packing for the military or packing to run. The thought of running tempted me. I’d need to find someone whose hacking skills were five thousand times better than my own to scramble the GPS tracker in my implant, but I had no idea where to even begin looking.
“We’re mailing you to Grandma’s, so I’m packing your stuff.”
He put his hands on his hips. “That’s your stuff. And I’m not going anywhere. Mom told me you’re going away.”
My chest ached. “You caught me.”
He came closer, hands still on his hips. “I’m not stupid. University isn’t until next year. So, where are you really going?”
The kid was getting too smart for his own good. Mom decided it would be too hard on Jonathan to tell him I’d been drafted. The war had taken Dad from him. Now it would take me too.
I closed my eyes and counted to five. Falling apart wasn’t an option. “I got in early, because I’m super smart.” Great. Now I’d lied to protect him, the same way Dad tried to protect me with his sweet letters. Luckily—as far as I knew anyway—Jonathan couldn’t hack his way into a simple chat room, let alone into something as complex as our mom’s PCD.
He looked at me, his face filled with doubt. I forced a teasing tone into my voice. “What? You don’t think I’m smart enough to get into University early?”
He pointed at me. “But school’s almost over. Not starting.”
He was good. I resisted the urge to give him a hug so I wouldn’t make him more suspicious. Instead, I threw a balled up pair of socks at him. “I’m taking some summer classes so I can get ahead. This way, I’ll be home faster.”
He giggled and threw my socks back, which started an all-out sock fight. Socks from the piles on my bed and ones I’d already put in my suitcase flew everywhere. I’d have to repack, but it was worth it. I could practically feel the seconds I had left with him slipping away, and I planned to treasure every single one of them.
After a few minutes of darting around flinging socks at Jonathan, my side ached from the exertion and laughing so hard. I gasped for air. “Stop.” I needed to get into shape. Guess the military would do that for me.
“Never.” Jonathan laughed and kept pelting me with socks.
I sank to the floor, a sob rising. “I give up.”
He jumped on me and tickled me, but I couldn’t even fake laughing.
“Tickle fight!” His little fingers ground into my sides.
I grabbed his arms and pulled him into a hug. “Hug machine.”
He squirmed, but I held him close. I might never get this chance again.
He stopped trying to escape and looked at my face. “Are you crying?”
I took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Course not. I just . . . got something in my eye.” Lame explanation, I knew, but hopefully he didn’t.
He did. Of course.
“No, you didn’t. You’re crying.” Tears filled his eyes, too.
