The Survival Code, page 20
I point at the laptop. “Dad, we can—”
Dr. Doomsday shakes his head. “What could we do? Surely you must know that any programmer good enough to create the kind of code you’re describing is also capable of altering file dates, editing logs, covering their tracks. We could check a few things, but it wouldn’t accomplish anything.”
I don’t know what is worse—Dad’s apathy, or the fact that MacKenna totally called it.
“There are logs that might have been autogenerated while the hacker was placing the file or running the code. And you could create a user model based on Jay’s profile. Show that two different people were utilizing the computer.” A fire builds up in my belly. “This is what you do! You create these kinds of models. Can’t you look at the laptop? Can’t you at least check it out?”
“It wouldn’t prove anything,” Dad says. His voice. Dry. Bland.
“It might prove that someone else besides Jay Novak is responsible,” I say, slapping my knees in frustration.
Dad drops the laptop into the dirt. “Someone else is responsible. Don’t you understand? Who stands to benefit from the explosions at the bank? Who wanted more power than the election was going to deliver? It’s an old systems model. You create a little chaos. Blame your enemy. Demand a power transfer to help you restore civilization.”
Toby leans forward. “You think Ammon Carver blew up his own banks and killed thousands of people just to disrupt The Spark?” He says this fast. Like he’s been thinking about this idea for a while.
Dad’s expression darkens. “Carver doesn’t want to disrupt The Spark. He wants to destroy it.” The sun is beginning to rise directly behind him, creating an odd halo around his dark hair. “I left The Opposition when it...it became clear that Carver didn’t want to beat Rosenthal, he wanted to annihilate him. That Carver regarded The Spark as an existential threat and believed the only way the world would survive was if he eliminated that threat.”
MacKenna frowns. “And he also messed up the data at the banks? Why would he do that?”
Dad says nothing and fills the silence by crumpling up the empty bag of oatmeal.
Oh my God.
My breath catches in my throat.
Terminus called it.
“It’s not him. It’s you. You wrote the malware. Terminus said it was installed at the bank five years ago, back when you were consulting at the bank. You put it there. You’ve known... You’ve known...” I can’t breathe. My dad knew this was going to happen.
He’d known for years.
Charles scowls at me. “That’s not true, Jinx.”
MacKenna jumps to a stand. She looks like she’s about to charge through the fire. “You don’t think Ammon Carver blew up the banks. You know it. Don’t you? You knew that’s what they were planning. Did you know they planned to frame my dad? Did you?”
“MacKenna, how can you say that?” Charles asks. “Dad would never hurt Jay.”
Navarro returns from feeding the horses and pulls another sleeping bag up to the fire and sits. “We should think about getting on the road.”
Toby glares at him. “I want an answer to the question.”
Dad shakes his head. “No. No, I did not. It was clear from the discussions happening that they would need to find someone to pin this mess on. There has to be someone to blame. Why they chose him specifically, I can’t say.”
I have to do something. Scooping up the laptop near Dad’s feet, I get up and pace around in the dirt, kicking up a small storm with my shoes. He knows more than he’s saying. “I think you could say!”
Dad ignores this.
MacKenna frowns in confusion and sits down again. “You mean the explosion and your...um...malware aren’t related? Then...why...why would you want to delete the bank data?”
When my dad doesn’t respond, I answer. “Not delete. Encrypt. It’s like putting the files in a lockbox. The key is a password. Or a piece of code.” I nod at Dad. “He has the key. Usually the point of these kinds of things is to get the bank to pay you a ransom or something, but...”
It makes perfect sense that someone as paranoid as Dad would program in a back door when working on a large system, but...
There was something else.
I freeze. “Wait. Is this why Mom wanted us to find you? She thinks you can trade the key for Jay?”
“I don’t know what your mother thinks,” Dad says tersely.
MacKenna cocks her head, a look of surprise overtaking her features. “But the New Depression. You can’t delete or encrypt or whatever...you can’t mess with all the files at the country’s largest bank without there being terrible consequences...for my father...and The Spark. You have to help him. You have to give them the key.”
“The New Depression,” Dad repeats in a tone laced with dark cynicism. He shakes his head. “I created that program as an insurance policy of sorts. One, I must admit, that hasn’t functioned as well as I intended. But I can’t give up the encryption key. That key is the only card I have left to play. It might be the only thing that ensures our survival.”
MacKenna’s mouth falls open. “But—but—but...”
Dad turns to me. “Susan. Listen to me. When I first knew him, Ammon Carver was like a brother to me. He was smart. Enterprising. Charismatic. I thought he was the very best this country could produce. Then the New Depression hit. Carver had ideas about how to end it. Good ideas. Until that point, The Opposition had mainly existed as a way to stop The Spark from going too far. Pushing the world to places that were too extreme. Carver thought it could be different. This world had begun to spin out of control, and it was about to come off its axis. Carver believed The Opposition could set things right again—and I believed in Carver.”
“The Spark is not responsible for the New Depression,” MacKenna says.
It’s Navarro who answers. “Who created the mortgage program that led to the housing crisis? Who proposed the government bailout of people who didn’t pay their bills? Who had to levy massive new taxes to pay for these programs?”
MacKenna stands up too. “Those programs were designed to help people who’d been exploited and preyed upon by the super rich. You can’t spend half of modern history locking people out of an economic system and then act surprised when—”
Navarro shakes his head. “Your dad has a good job. You live in a nice house, but have you looked around recently? Seen all the foreclosure signs? All the empty storefronts? The Spark put us on this path. The path of continually sabotaging the engine of prosperity.”
The engine of prosperity. Another one of my dad’s favorite talking points.
MacKenna has also taken to pacing around. “The Spark only exists because the old political parties weren’t working. Do you remember life before The Spark?”
The Spark has been in power more than ten years. I don’t remember much from before and I’m surprised that MacKenna thinks she does.
“People died without food. People died waiting for medicine,” she tells Navarro.
Navarro snorts. “And now people who can afford to pay for medicine can’t get it. People like Charles. Who could get a SNAP tomorrow if it weren’t for the doctor shortage, and all the pharmaceutical companies that went out of business because of price regulations—”
Toby glances at Charles. “Those companies were charging thousands of dollars an ounce for insulin. I suppose you think that’s fine.”
“Sometimes it is fine,” Navarro tells her. “If you have thousands of dollars, why should The Spark get to decide you can’t use it for medicine? How can one person tell another what to charge for their work? Or what they can buy with money that’s been rightfully earned? My parents came to this country with nothing and made a good life. They should decide how the proceeds of their labor are spent.”
Dad nods and strokes his beard. “Yes. There it is. The dilemma. The Spark created a world where everyone can have only a little. The Opposition offers a world with the opportunity for some people to have it all.”
My brother could have an artificial pancreas.
And someone else might get nothing.
“And anyway—” Navarro says.
“And anyway,” Toby cuts through him. His voice is loud and echoes off the two buttes. “You’re conveniently forgetting that Everyone’s for Rosenthal. David Rosenthal was going to really help people. The Opposition had to cheat to win.”
Navarro rolls his eyes. “The Spark created a bunch of voters hopelessly dependent on government assistance. Rosenthal had to buy votes with other people’s tax money.”
“Yeah, but Carver is trying to have us all killed,” I say.
Dad clears his throat. “The point is this. When I realized that Carver didn’t want to fix this world, that he wanted to remake it in his own image, I left. But it was too late.”
“I’m sure that will come as a big consolation to my father,” Toby says.
“But you know what’s happening,” MacKenna says. “You could come forward.”
“Did you say this stuff to Mom? Is that why she left you?” I ask.
Dad’s face falls. The answer must be yes.
My father stands, picks up his pack and leans toward MacKenna. “I’m sorry about your father, young lady. But there’s nothing I can do. Nothing any of us can do. Ammon Carver is in control of the government. He isn’t going to cooperate with attempts to prove that his own people are behind all this. I’m here for one reason. To get you back on track. If your father is the kind of man you say he is, then he’d agree with me. Your father would agree that your safety is what matters.” Dad points south. “We’re headed off toward Why, but we’ll bypass the town. A buddy of mine owns a ranch over there. We’ll leave the truck and we can take turns on the horses, but we need to get going. Carver’s people are putting up roadblocks all over the place. It’s only a matter of time before they implement curfews. I don’t want to be on this side of the border when that happens.”
A light, cold breeze moves over me as I stay very still.
Dad swings the red bag over his shoulder. “We’ve got a long walk ahead of us. Let’s pack up what we can.”
Navarro gets up and takes a few steps toward the camper.
MacKenna shakes her head. “I’m going after my father.”
Toby nods. “Me too.”
Charles bites his lower lip.
So much for making a group decision. But my dad has a way of making democracy impossible.
He stops. “On foot? With minimal supplies? That’s suicide.”
The hot energy that has been building up inside me settles down.
I find a certain sense of calm. Of peace.
Maybe Dad is comfortable becoming the destroyer of worlds.
But I’m not.
I have to do what I can to fix this.
Even if what I can do is futile.
I stand, opposing my father. “She’s not going on foot. She’s taking the truck and whatever supplies aren’t essential to get you across the desert.”
And.
“I’m going with her.”
DR. DOOMSDAY’S GUIDE TO ULTIMATE SURVIVAL
RULE TEN: IT’S BETTER TO AVOID TROUBLE THAN BEAT TROUBLE.
Dad frowns. “Absolutely not.”
This only increases my resolve. “I’m. Going.”
I pick the laptop up off the ground. Dad might think it’s worthless, but I’m still going to check it out. He follows me into the camper, where I dig around in the cabinets, searching for a spare backpack.
I find an old, camo green military-style bag and stuff it full of supplies for my brother, including his meds and glucometer. “Um. Charles had his medicine this morning. But you do need to check his blood sugar at least twice a day. A couple of hours or so after a meal.”
Keep going.
I have to keep going or I’ll cry or come to my senses or run away.
“I know that,” Dad snaps. “I’m his father. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m your father too. You can’t disobey me like this.”
I haven’t forgotten. That’s why I have to go. “You haven’t been around in a while. I need to make sure you have Charles’s routine under control.”
“I can’t stop your friends from marching into certain death. But I can stop you.”
Bottled water. Protein bars. Beef jerky. I keep going until the bag is full.
“How?” I ask him.
I catch a glimpse of MacKenna through the camper window. She has her arm around my brother’s shoulders. Toby and Navarro stand outside, watching me argue with Dad.
Dad yanks the bag out of my grip “How? What do you mean, how?”
“How are you gonna stop me?”
Dad’s face pales. “Jinx. This is serious. It’s been daylight for about twenty minutes. I guarantee you that every sheriff’s unit from Gila Bend to Why is out on patrol. Looking for...” He shakes his head. “It may take an hour or so, but they’ll be organizing air patrols out of Phoenix and Tucson. You’ll be caught. There won’t be anything I can do to help.”
I hold up my hand to silence him. In spite of my efforts to stay tough, little tears squirt from the corners of my eyes. “You’ve made that perfectly clear.”
“Don’t you understand—”
I wipe away the angry tears with my sweater sleeve. “Don’t you understand that all of this disaster drilling is its own kind of disaster? You focused on how bad things were, and you made them worse. You were expecting the end of the world, and you’ve caused it. I have to do something about it, even if you won’t.”
Dad steps back, his face unreadable.
“Don’t you even care about Mom?”
And then he looks like I’ve slapped him.
Charles comes in. “Jinx. You said you wouldn’t leave me.”
He’s about to cry too.
I kneel down. “Charles. I don’t want to and I don’t know if we’ll be able to help Mom and Jay. But we have to try.”
My brother hugs me so tight. “I can help. I want to come too.”
“No,” Dad and I say in unison.
I kiss him on the forehead. “It will help us to know that you’re safe.”
“You’ll be back, right? You’ll come back for me, won’t you?” Uncertainty fills my brother’s green eyes.
“I will always come back for you.” At least I’ll always try.
I take Charles by the hand. Navarro helps me get my brother situated on the yellow horse.
MacKenna and Toby wait near the truck, talking among themselves.
My hand once again meets Navarro’s on the horse’s reins. My pulse jumps.
He looks away.
I’m cold again.
“You didn’t tell me all that stuff about the laptop,” he says.
“You didn’t tell me you had spoken to my father. That you had some idea where he was.”
He runs a hand through his thick dark hair. He’s wearing a fresh shirt in dark green. “I told him I wouldn’t say anything. I gave Dr. Marshall my word.”
Navarro puts a light hand on my arm. “You’d prefer it if I were the kind of person who didn’t keep my word?”
I’d prefer it if he were coming with us.
My stomach is churning as I pull my arm away. “You’re going with my dad?” It’s an accusation.
His dark eyes avoid mine. “I don’t have a choice.”
The deer grass rustles. I shake my head. “There’s always a choice.”
Navarro climbs up behind Charles.
Dad mounts his horse. “If you come to your senses, head due south. I’ll be on the watch.”
This might be the last time I ever see Dad. It seems like I should say something.
I could say anything. I could tell him to be safe. I could tell him that I love him. For some reason, I remember summers spent on the beach in Rocky Point. I was so warm and happy there in the sun. Talking, facing the ocean, watching the waves. Playing in the sand.
I could tell him that we used to be happy.
Then I remember something else.
Even then, we didn’t build sand castles.
We built fortresses.
I ask my father for the one thing he can give. Advice on how to survive.
“You ever hear of a guy called Tork?” I ask.
For a moment his careful composure slips away. I see it. He’s terrified.
Which scares the hell out of me.
“That’s who Carver sent? Marcus Tork?”
My heart thuds away and I nod in response.
“Jinx. If you see him coming, you do what I would do.”
“What’s that?” I ask. A tiny little part of me can’t believe he’s actually leaving me here.
“Run.” Dad jerks on the reins and turns his horse south.
I stand there for a few minutes watching them ride off. For a second thinking, or maybe hoping, Dad will have a change of heart.
Only Navarro looks back.
Toby, MacKenna and I form a tiny circle.
She takes a sharp breath. “So, we’re doing this?” she says.
I head toward the truck. “I’ll drive.”
MacKenna twists her fingers. “I don’t suppose your dad had some kind of big plan for something like this. Some kind of a big-time prison escape?”
We trained only to run away. “No.”
Toby steps forward. “The way to handle this is step-by-step. Let’s see if we can get to the airfield. If we do, we’ll try to find Dad. Then, we’ll try to get ourselves out.”
“Okay,” MacKenna says.
Right. Okay. “We did a bunch of the drills out here and there’s a bunch of old roads back here. Mostly dirt roads used by the locals. We’ll drive along them. Follow the highway. Navarro said if we head east, we should hit the airfield.”
