“How has he been acting?”

  “He came to work with me today and helped on some of the cars. He seems to be acting fine.” Charlie omitted the morning’s activities, saving the news about him and Annie getting married for another time. Mia had too much on her mind with Ryan’s issues for him to bring it up, and after her strange behavior, he didn’t want to send her into a tailspin.

  “Sure, I guess take him to school tomorrow.”

  “And you’ll pick him up?” Charlie loved having Ryan at the house during the week but wasn’t going to push his luck. Mia was already acting out of character by allowing him to keep Ryan during a day outside the custody schedule.

  “No. You go ahead and do that. I’m in the middle of working something out right now, and Ryan needs to be around you, too, Charlie. I’ll be in touch when I’m ready for him to come home.”

  “Working something out? What are you doing?” Charlie leaned against an old pickup truck that he and Randy were redoing.

  “Don’t worry about it. I don’t want to bring you into it.”

  “Well, can I help? I’m concerned about you. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine. I’m just worried about everything, especially Ryan. I’m working on making sure he’ll be okay with our regulated food.”

  Charlie nodded toward Randy, who was headed for the exit, twirling the shop keys on his index finger. “Don’t do anything that will get you in trouble. I’ll take Ryan to school tomorrow, and I’ll talk to the staff about making sure he doesn’t get milk or peanut butter. They should already know that, but it seems they’ve conveniently forgotten in all of this frenzy.”

  “Okay, I gotta go. We’ll talk soon. I’m being careful.”

  Charlie followed Randy outside and locked up the shop. John was in his car, where he had sat most of the day, probably making sure they were running the shop and not taking advantage of any work time by slacking off and leaving early. As he got into his pickup, Charlie glared at John. The constant monitoring was frustrating, and he decided to turn it into a game, refusing to make John’s job any easier for him.

  Rather than take the normal route home, Charlie took a back path through wooded roads, curvy roads, away from the city. Smiling to himself, Charlie imagined John in the car behind him, hands tight on the steering wheel, fuming as he wondered where Charlie might be leading him.

  It was likely that John didn’t care and was just along for the ride, ready to hop on Charlie at any second for whatever rule infraction he could find. It helped Charlie cope to imagine John getting riled up, even though it was likely Charlie would be in trouble for not taking the normal drive home. His ankle monitor dug into his skin, reminding him that whoever was sitting on the other side of the computer tracking him was hopefully also perplexed, documenting his whereabouts solely to protect John in case of any funny business.

  Charlie imagined leading John deep into the woods, miles from town. After pulling over on the side of a dirt road, he would assault John, permanently incapacitating him, leaving him to suffer and die. The thought brought a smile to Charlie’s lips, but unfortunately, his fantasy wouldn’t be played out. Charlie wasn’t a killer, but the torture he and Annie were enduring was enough to drive any man to commit heinous crimes he never would have imagined doing under normal circumstances. His thoughts were the only place he was free. No one could invade his mind and violate his privacy there. Whatever his brain conjured up was his to think about and his alone. John wouldn’t interfere, and Charlie could stay there, thinking up any scenario he wanted.

  The county road finally led back to the main road into town, and Charlie pulled into his drive a little after six o’clock. Though John didn’t get out of his car, Charlie could tell the man wasn’t happy with their jaunt through the countryside.

  Spreading his arms, Charlie laughed. “I just wanted to take the scenic route, John. Let me guess, that’s against the rules too? My ankle monitor hasn’t started beeping yet, so I got home in good time.”

  John pulled out a notepad and scribbled something down. Charlie assumed it was a note to go into his ever-growing file of disciplinary write-ups.

  To hell with it. No matter what he did, they were going to get him for something, so he might as well enjoy it while he could. It went against everything that Annie had asked of him, and she was the only reason he was still attempting to behave.

  “I don’t want to go to school, Daddy. I still don’t feel good.”

  Charlie pulled his truck next to the curb in front of the elementary school and turned to face Ryan in the back seat. Aside from being a little pale, the boy looked fine. If Charlie wasn’t mistaken, he looked to have lost some weight.

  “You gotta go, bud. The more days you miss, the further behind you’ll get. You don’t wanna be held back while all of your friends move up to the next grade, do you?”

  Ryan shook his head and took off his seat belt. “No. I just don’t like the mean man in our class. I think my teacher is scared of him. I know I’m scared of him, and my friends are too.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I’m going to go in and have a talk with your teacher and that man. Do you remember what I asked you to do the other day when Mommy brought you over?”

  “I do.”

  “What was it?” Charlie asked, watching other kids walk into school. Two men stood at the entrance, their arms folded over their chests. Watching the school was a bold move—kids were impressionable. If they got to them early, the men could instill the corrupt values that Millstone was hoping the whole country eventually would adopt.

  “Don’t drink any milk. I can give it to my friends. Only drink water and juice.”

  “That’s right, kiddo. What about peanut butter?”

  “Definitely don’t eat that.”

  Charlie got out of his pickup and walked Ryan up to the school. The two men at the entrance stopped him at the front, allowing Ryan to pass but blocking Charlie from going inside.

  “Can I help you?” one of the men asked.

  “I’m Ryan Cooper’s father. I need to talk to his teacher and possibly the principal.”

  “Did you set up an appointment?”

  “You gotta be kidding me! We aren’t even allowed to talk to the people educating our children?” Charlie raised his voice, causing everyone in the hall behind the two men to stop and watch the commotion.

  “What is this in regard to?”

  “A few days ago, someone in this school gave my son some milk. In his file, it clearly states that he is severely lactose intolerant and has other food allergies. I want to know why this happened. He ended up at the emergency room and almost died.”

  “There are no notes about allergies in any student’s file anymore. They have all been removed. Every child will eat the same meal provided by the school.” The man at the entrance spoke in a monotone, his face stoic as he continued to block the entrance to the school.

  “There’s proof that my kid can’t have that stuff.”

  “Sir, you need to leave. You’re causing a scene and scaring the children.”

  “I’m scaring the children?” Charlie patted his chest and took a step forward, his face close to the man who had been talking to him. “I think you people are the ones scaring the children.”

  “We’ll be notifying John about this altercation, Mr. Cooper. From what we know, you’re already on thin ice with this administration. You need to leave. There’s no need to talk to Ryan’s teacher or the principal. They do what we say. They follow the rules we enforce. All kids will get milk. And it’s not the soy or almond milk you’re wanting. That’s all fake just to get people hyped up for stupid reasons. You need to put your energy into a good cause, like obeying Millstone and not doing anything to get yourself or the ones you love killed.”

  Killed? Charlie stepped back, the words loud like thunder. When had the matter escalated to death? First, they were threatening arrests and lockup. Now it was death? Surely the man was using a play on words to scare him. The government couldn’t kill its citizens unless they had been convicted of murder. There was no way things would get that bad.

  “Back away, Mr. Cooper.”

  The voice was familiar, and Charlie didn’t have to turn around to know that John was there.

  “You married Annie yesterday. That was a great step in the right direction. It hurts me to see you backsliding so badly.”

  Charlie faced John, looking him in the eye. “What can I do to please you, John? I got married, but then you were mad I wasn’t at the shop. I can’t be in two places at once. No matter what I do, you’re going to find something wrong.”

  John smiled, exposing his perfect, straight teeth. They looked almost as fake as he did. “Go to work, Charlie. Ryan will be fine. Annie will be fine. This all stems from the first day when you refused to answer the census questions, a simple task that told us so much from the very beginning about how you would be. I bet if you could, you’d go back and make a better decision the second time around.”

  “Nope.” Charlie shook his head.

  John cocked his head to the side and arched an eyebrow. “No? Even if it meant privacy and a life where we left you alone?”

  “In this new world, there’s no such thing. You people are going to take everything you can until you completely destroy this country and eventually the world. I don’t want to be your fucking peasant.”

  Charlie walked away before John responded. He would likely pay harsh consequences for his behavior, but it felt damn good to stand up to the people slowly stripping their rights away.

  Charlie had a hard time focusing at work. Randy was busy talking about random things—the stories on the news, the direction the government was going in, and all of the rules they were forced to follow. It was all a blur, and Charlie would chime in with an “okay” or a “yeah” as Randy addressed all of the current events on his mind. John was likely listening to every word they were saying, and Charlie wasn’t watching his responses. He had other things on his mind, including how to take care of Ryan and Annie.

  His cell phone buzzed in his pocket, and he was relieved to see it was Mia calling. Her erratic behavior also worried him, and he hoped she would give some indication of what she was up to while he kept Ryan.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Charlie. I’ve been doing some reading on Ryan’s situation. I think I may have found a way—”

  “Hold on. You know they’re probably listening to our phone calls, right?” Charlie went into his office, where he hoped to have a little privacy.

  “You’re paranoid.”

  “After everything I’ve been through and my encounters with my supposed caseworker, all bets are off with what these people are up to. Whatever you’re considering doing, don’t do it. Ryan’s a smart kid. He knows what he’s supposed to eat and not eat.”

  Mia took a deep breath. “You realize they’re being so strict about this because they’re hoping that restricting allergic-reaction medications will finish off sickly people, right? You know, sort of a ‘the strong will survive’ mentality to strengthen Millstone’s people?”

  Charlie sat in his chair and propped his legs up on a nearby shelf. “So, you think they’re wanting to kill off people with allergies and diseases?” Despite everything that had already happened, he was skeptical.

  “Yeah, think about it.”

  “If that was their agenda, that would mean over half of the population would eventually die. How many people have allergies now? It’s way more prevalent than it used to be.”

  “There are lots of people who have allergies, but how many actually have them so bad that it means anaphylactic shock and death? Most can survive with a few miserable symptoms and be on their way. Those who actually need an EpiPen? That’s a problem.”

  Charlie leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “We shouldn’t be talking about this over the phone.”

  “You’re paranoid about your office being bugged. I’m paranoid about our little boy being killed because they won’t acknowledge his sickness. What’s more important to you?”

  “Ryan, of course.” Charlie paused when he saw John standing in the entrance of his office. “Listen, I gotta go. Please, be smart. Don’t do anything crazy.” He ended the call and tossed his phone on his desk.

  John stepped in and pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his back pocket then twirled them on his index finger. “Charlie Cooper, I’m afraid we’re going to have to take you into custody.” Charlie began to stand up, but John held his hand out, motioning for him to stay. “Remain seated. Don’t make any sudden movement. I have two other men here to help me if I need backup. Am I going to need backup, Mr. Cooper?”

  “I’d like you to tell me why you’re arresting me.” Charlie tried not to panic. Showing fear was allowing them to win. All he could think about was the mention of different disciplinary levels and how the higher they went, the less likely it was that he would ever be free again. Had he reached that high of a disciplinary level yet? He had just complied with a major rule. How could this be happening?

  “It’s funny how you demand things. Mr. Cooper, we don’t have to tell you anything. You do have to come with us. Now, answer my question. Am I going to need backup?”

  Charlie looked over John’s shoulder, trying to figure out where Randy had gone. Was he under arrest too? “You’re not going to give me any information? What about my wife? She needs to know what’s going on.”

  “She’ll be informed. Stand up and face the wall, Mr. Cooper.”

  Two men stood behind John, both about double his size, their arms folded across their chests. That must be the backup, their bouncer-like demeanor probably meant to intimidate. Charlie stood up slowly, keeping his hands in front of him. With no rights to protect him, the last thing he needed was to make a sudden movement and get killed.

  He turned and faced the wall. A hard shove in the small of his back pushed him closer to the wood paneling, his nose ramming into the hard surface. Pain seared through his face and down his neck. Someone spread his legs, patting him as they searched up and down his body and midsection. His arms were manipulated like pretzels, and the cold metal of the handcuffs clamped down on each wrist, hindering him from moving at all.

  A hand tugged him away from the wall then turned him to walk out of his office and into the main shop area. One of the bodyguard guys held onto him while John and the other guy led him through the door, out into the parking lot. Randy’s truck was gone, and he was nowhere to be found.

  “Where’s Randy?” Charlie looked around.

  A hard blow to the back of his knees made him fall to the ground, groaning as his body made impact with the concrete walkway.

  “You speak when spoken to. Don’t ask questions.”

  Charlie’s pulse quickened. His fight-or-flight response was kicking in, the adrenaline helping mask the pain from the physical assault he was enduring. When they reached the sedan that John had been following him in, they shoved him into the back seat, and his head made impact with the top of the door as he fell onto the seat. His vision grew fuzzy for a split second before he could see clearly again.

  He maneuvered his body enough that he wasn’t sitting on his hands, but he was twisted in an awkward position. John got in the driver’s side and one of the other men in the passenger seat. Charlie couldn’t see out of the window that well, but he could tell they had pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street. He had a million questions but bit his tongue. Now wasn’t the time to ask anything. His head throbbed, his knees ached, and he was certain this was the last time he would ever see the light of day.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Annie glanced at her watch. It was almost seven o’clock, and Charlie still hadn’t made it home. Pacing before the front window, she watched the street, hoping she’d see his truck turn the corner, letting her know he was okay, and she could finish up the last touches on supper.

  Walking back into the kitchen, she tried to hide her worry. Ryan was already eating some roast beef and vegetable medley, scarfing it down like he hadn’t had anything to eat in days. It was good to see him eat—Charlie had been worried about his weight loss due to the dietary restrictions that had been implemented.

  “Where’s Daddy?” Ryan asked in between bites before taking a long drink of water.

  “He’ll be home soon. He probably got busy at work and had some cars he had to finish up.” Annie stood again and stirred the rice, making sure it wasn’t sticking to the pan.

  Talking to Ryan was also her coping mechanism, a desperate attempt to calm herself down, hoping what she was saying about Charlie working late was true. The only thing was, it probably wasn’t true. Charlie was good about calling or texting her if he was going to be late. The last time she had heard from him was a little after noon, and he had requested the roast beef dinner she was cooking.

  She dialed his number, and her heart skipped a beat when it went directly to voicemail. His voice was on the other end, but it was the usual message for her to leave her name and number, saying that he would get back with her as soon as he got the message. She ended the call, waited a few seconds, and tried again with the same result—straight to voicemail.

  After stepping out onto the front porch, she leaned against the house and watched the street, her imagination playing tricks on her. Was that his loud truck rumbling down the street? No. It was silent. There was hardly any traffic at all. John wasn’t even parked in the street, watching the house like he usually did. If Annie needed any indication that something was going on, that was it. John was always right on schedule, parked in the street and watching the house as soon as Charlie made it home, as if his ankle monitor wasn’t enough for them to make sure he was right where he was supposed to be.

  “Damn it, Charlie. Where are you?” She hugged her cardigan around her midsection. The evening breeze was chilly, hinting at the first signs of fall and colder weather headed their way.

  Once she’d gone inside again, she checked on Ryan, who had finished his food. He didn’t say a word, but the look on his face indicated that he also knew something wasn’t right. Kids were perceptive. Charlie wasn’t home, and that was out of their normal routine.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21