Inception, page 19
part #1 of The Defiants Series
“They’re lax about watching us at night. I’ve been suffering from insomnia since all this bullshit started. Sure, I’ve seen John watching the house some, but he’s gotta sleep too. His surveillance isn’t near as strict as it is during the day because they’re trusting the ankle monitor to do the work while they’re resting.”
“You have my attention, but I still feel like we haven’t had a moment of privacy. Don’t they work in shifts?”
“From what I understand, John is our supposed caseworker.” He made air quotes when he said caseworker. “We’re his responsibility. Instead of cutting off the tracker, which will likely set off alarms, I’ll try to slip it off and leave it in the house. For all he knows, we’re sound asleep in our beds and he doesn’t have a thing to worry about.”
“With all of the monitoring, I feel like this is too good to be true. I feel like we’ll still get caught as soon as we leave the driveway.”
Charlie let out a deep sigh. “Any other ideas? It’s the best I got. We’re desperate.”
“Let’s give it a try. If someone follows us, I guess we’ll just stop off at a gas station and pretend we’re getting something for Ryan. Can fake an illness and get some medicine or food, maybe.”
Annie’s hesitation made Charlie rethink his plan. Their watchers were so strict on surveillance that Annie had a valid point—it felt almost too good to be true.
“What else do we have to lose? We stay here, we go into camps. We leave and get caught, we go to camps. But there’s the option of leaving and possibly getting away.” Charlie glanced at his watch. It was after ten o’clock. The city would be dead with things closing down early due to curfews.
“Okay, Charlie. I’m with you. Let’s start gathering up supplies to take with us.”
The first thing on Charlie’s mind was making sure Ryan was taken care of. He was fast asleep in his bed, unaware that his life was about to drastically change—again. The child had already gone through so much. The government change was first, then his mother’s death—which he didn’t know about yet—and they were about to run, fleeing their home and the walls that kept them safe.
Before waking him up, Charlie grabbed a duffel bag and put several changes of clothes inside, along with one of Ryan’s favorite toys and a couple of books. He considered the iPad, but with limited access to electricity for the foreseeable future, he decided to leave it. There were more important things to take.
He joined Annie in the kitchen, and she was loading canvas bags with every nonperishable, premade food item in their pantry. He looked through the refrigerator. Any smoked meat would last without refrigeration for a while, and the vegetables in their crisper—carrots, radishes, tomatoes, and broccoli—would last for some time without needing a cool environment.
Charlie grabbed a small cooler from the garage and put the refrigerated food inside. They had half a bag of ice in the freezer, and he poured it over the top, jamming it as full as he could without leaving the lid open to let warm air inside. Annie gathered two canvas bags with crackers, peanut butter, bread, tuna packets, canned sausage, Spam, and bottles of water.
“Wanna take what’s left in the fruit bowl?” Charlie pointed at the last few pieces of fruit —three bananas, four apples, and a package of strawberries. “They’ll be reserved for Ryan. We know he won’t get sick off of them.”
Annie nodded and piled the fruit on top of the other items. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and rested her hands on her hips. “We can make this last, can’t we?”
“For a while. We’ll just have to ration until we get to where we’re going.”
“Where are we going?” Annie asked.
“Mexico is our best bet. It’s closest to us, and surely, they haven’t built an entire wall along the border yet. That’s a lot of miles.”
Annie nodded, though her body language showed her reluctance. “I’m gonna go gather a few toiletries. Toothpaste, toothbrushes, things like that.”
Charlie looked around the kitchen for anything else they might need. He wished he had his guns. The Millstone people had taken them, knowing that the day would come that people wanted to flee. What could he take with them for protection? Aside from Millstone’s people, there would also probably be looters and people up to no good, preying on everyone’s weaknesses. He needed something that would help his family, especially since he was injured. Having only one good arm made him less confident that he could handle whatever danger came their way.
He stopped at a knife block on the cabinet. It held various sizes of knives, including a large butcher knife he used for cutting up deer meat. He slid the three largest knives into one of the canvas bags. Using a knife would require getting close to the threat, but it was better than nothing. Maybe the sight of the knives would be enough to scare someone off.
Annie came back into the kitchen, obviously noticing the handles sticking out of the bag. “Good idea.” She tossed in hand soap, toothpaste, toothbrushes, hairbrushes, deodorant, and some body wash. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to shower much, but I wanted to feel somewhat human.” Shrugging, she bit her bottom lip, her eyes welling up with tears.
“We’re doing this, Annie. One way or another, things are going to work out.” Charlie wanted to laugh. That wasn’t even convincing to him, and he was the one saying it. “I’m gonna go wake up Ryan. It’s already past midnight. We gotta get going.”
When Charlie sat on the edge of Ryan’s bed, the dip in the mattress made the boy stir, his eyes slowly opening. “Dad?” He rubbed his eyes, and his voice was raspy.
“Hey, kiddo. It’s time to get up.”
“Why? It’s still dark outside.”
Charlie pulled the covers off him. “I know.” He struggled with what to say. There was no sense in sugarcoating it. Ryan was young, but he wasn’t dumb. “We’re leaving tonight.”
“Where are we going?” Fully awake, Ryan sat up in bed.
“We’re hitting the road. We’re going to try to get away from all of this here.” Charlie spread his hands.
“They said at school that if we don’t do what they say, they’ll kill us. What if they kill us like those people?”
Charlie felt the bile gather in his throat. “Those people” included Mia. Poor Ryan was still oblivious to it. The brainwashing techniques were already starting to work on his child. “If we don’t leave, they’ll still kill me, Ryan. I’ve packed up some clothes for you, and I made sure your toy is in the bag. Annie’s waiting in the kitchen.” It was abrupt but the only way Charlie felt he could snap Ryan out of it.
“Is Mommy coming too?”
The question hit Charlie hard, like a pile of bricks falling right on top of him. “No. Mommy isn’t coming with us.” It wasn’t the time to explain her death. That would come up soon enough, and if he mentioned it right then, Ryan might have a meltdown, hindering their chances of sneaking out in the middle of the night.
To Charlie’s surprise, Ryan didn’t ask any questions. He nodded, slid down from his bed, and took Charlie’s hand. The government was depriving Ryan of a real childhood. Instead, he would be on the run, hopefully getting to Mexico, where they could try to have some semblance of a life away from the United States. But what would happen if the rest of the world started instilling the morality of the Millstone administration? It was possible—Millstone had a dictator’s agenda and hopes for world domination. There had to be enough good people out there to not allow it to happen. Eventually, someone would stop him from gaining any more control.
Charlie grabbed Ryan’s duffel bag and two of the canvas bags before looping them around his good arm. Annie grabbed the rest. He felt like he was running a one-hundred-meter sprint. His heart pounded as they walked toward the garage. Glancing over his shoulder, he scanned the living room. As soon as they loaded up the car and opened the garage, they’d be on the run, constantly looking over their shoulders.
“Is there anything else you think we might need to take with us?” he asked, feeling that they were forgetting something.
“No. What we have is what we have. We need to go, or we’re going to keep hesitating.” Annie pushed on his back. “Load up the car.”
Charlie put the bags in the back seat and put the seat belt around Ryan. He grabbed the chef’s knife and slid it between the driver’s seat and the console for easy access. He hoped he wouldn’t need it, but having it beside him steadied his pulse. He cranked the car and watched the gas needle move. It came to rest just under the three-quarters-of-a-tank mark. With the good gas mileage her car got, that would get them a great distance away from town.
After opening the trunk, Charlie made sure he had put the siphoning tubes and gas can inside. Maybe they would run across abandoned cars, and he could take the gas from them. It was wishful thinking, but it wouldn’t hurt to take the supplies with them.
“One last thing before we go.” He reached for the knife. Propping his leg up on the side of the car, he cut the ankle monitor off, the black box falling to the floor with a loud thud. A high-pitched beep sounded, sending an alarm to whoever was monitoring his location during the night.
The garage opened, and Charlie gripped the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles ached. They were really doing this. He backed the car out onto the driveway, double-checking the rearview mirror as they merged onto the street. Taking one last glance at their home, he felt sad. It was the home he and Mia had built together. Ryan had grown up playing in the front yard. Annie had turned it back into a home after his and Mia’s divorce. So many good things had happened inside those walls.
“Let’s get out of here,” Annie said, touching his arm. “No turning back now.”
As Charlie put the car in Drive, a hand slammed down on the trunk, causing the car to rock up and down. Ryan screamed, looking through the window and back at Charlie, his eyes wide with fear.
A loud, familiar voice echoed in the night air. “Where in the hell do you think you’re going?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Charlie wanted to keep driving. Every instinct in him screamed to press the gas pedal and not look back. They hadn’t even gotten past their driveway before John realized they were leaving. Charlie had thought they would at least get to the end of the street or even to the city limit sign.
“Step out of the car, Mr. Cooper.” John was right at the window, and Charlie couldn’t tell whether he was holding something. “Don’t make me tell you twice.”
Ryan gasped in the back seat, and Charlie shuddered to think what was going through his child’s mind. Annie’s eyes were wide as she stared at John, her hands shaking as she raised them to show she wasn’t going to try anything. They couldn’t make it that easy for John. Charlie wanted him to have to work to take them into custody.
“John,” Charlie whispered, searching for something to say. There was no way to convince him to let them go. He’d be locked away for good or, even worse, put to death on the courthouse square like Mia.
“Mr. Cooper,” John replied. “Do you really think you can run? Did you think we wouldn’t be watching?”
Charlie looked in the rearview mirror. The well-being of his child was most important, and Ryan hugged his backpack against him, his chest rising and falling with short pants. If Charlie didn’t do something, Ryan wouldn’t live to be an adult. The Millstone people would make sure he ate something that would kill him.
Looking down, Charlie eyed the handle of the chef’s knife between the seat and the console. His arm throbbed, reminding him of his untreated injury that hurt with each beat of his pulse. He would have to push the pain aside. Broken arm or not, he couldn’t let John take them into custody. If he gave in, it would be the last time he ever saw Annie or Ryan. The thought of losing his family provided enough adrenaline to numb the torment coursing through him.
John leaned on the driver’s-side door, his head inside the car, close enough for Charlie to smell his breath. With his good hand, Charlie reached for the handle, swinging the door open as hard as he could, hitting John and knocking him backward onto the street. The man stumbled and, to Charlie’s surprise, kept his balance despite the hard blow.
Charlie grabbed the knife and got out of the car, holding it out to keep John from getting close to him. The weapon shook in his hand, and John apparently noticed, smiling as he took a step closer.
“You don’t have the nerve to do anything, Charlie. It’ll be an automatic death sentence if you so much as cut me with that thing.”
“It’s a death sentence no matter what I do now. At least I can go down knowing that I did everything I could, including finally taking your life like you’ve done with mine.”
John cocked his head to the side. “You might get away with it for a while, but we’ll get you. Millstone’s people are everywhere. If you put the knife down now, I can speak for you and maybe let you just have life in a work camp. A guy your size, we could use you for some of the bigger jobs we have going.”
Charlie continued to hold the knife up. His skin tightened as he gripped the handle. “Why would I have any reason to trust you?”
“I guess that’s a fair question. It really doesn’t matter, though. You don’t have the sack to kill me, anyway.”
John stepped toward him, and this time, Charlie didn’t stop. Running at him, Charlie tried to get the upper hand. John was quick, ducking Charlie’s swings. He went right for Charlie’s forearm and grasped it tight, the bone cracking inside the sling. Charlie yelled out, dropping the knife as both men fell to the ground, rolling around, John on top of Charlie then Charlie on top of John.
In the moonlight, Charlie saw his reflection in the silver knife about four feet away from them. Instead of keeping John on the ground, Charlie crawled toward the weapon and stretched as far as he could to reach it. John had hold of his foot, pulling him back, but Charlie closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, and thought about the reason he was fighting—Ryan and Annie. It was also for Mia, who’d died trying to do what was right for her child.
Groaning, Charlie realized his arm had gone completely numb. Reaching with his good arm, he found the handle of the knife, grabbed it, and turned onto his back. Then he lurched up at John, the knife slicing into the man’s stomach. The sound of flesh being cut open was eerie and surreal, and Charlie looked into John’s eyes as the man fell on top of him, his body heavy. Charlie kicked him off, and John fell with a hard thud, his eyes wide, his mouth open as if he were surprised that Charlie had actually gone through with it.
Blood soaked into John’s white shirt as he continued to watch Charlie. Standing, Charlie looked down at him then down the street. The night was dead, and no one was around to witness what had just transpired. It wouldn’t take an elite detective to figure it out, though. John was Charlie’s caseworker, and he had just been stabbed in the abdomen. Charlie and his family had suddenly disappeared. Case closed.
Circling John, Charlie fought the urge to plunge the knife into him again for safe measure. Instead, he waited, watching John’s life leave him. His eyes grew glassy, his stare going empty. Blood pooled under him, and finally, John took his last breath.
Charlie was hit with several competing emotions—fear, excitement, relief, and most of all, panic. Annie got out of the car and joined him. She grabbed his hand and squeezed.
“What in the hell?” Annie asked. “What in the hell are we going to do?”
Charlie squatted beside John and reached under the man’s armpits. Charlie’s injury was so numb that he knew he was damaging the broken bone, but it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was moving John’s body from the street and hiding it somewhere that would buy them a little time.
Following his lead, Annie grabbed John’s legs. He was heavy, his dead weight making it almost impossible to move him. Charlie ignored the heat shooting through him.
“Put him in the bushes beside the house.” Charlie walked backward, pulling the dead man as fast as he could.
They dropped him inside, the leaves shaking and scratching against the house. Charlie was surprised that neither of them got blood on their clothes, but the puddle in the middle of the street was still there, beckoning onlookers once people started waking up for the day.
“Oh my God, Charlie. John is dead.”
“Don’t look at him.” Charlie noticed Ryan getting out of the back seat of the car. “We need to go. We have to go now.”
He started toward the car, but Annie didn’t follow. He pulled her hand as she stared at the lifeless body, tears streaming down her face.
“Come on. We have to go! All of this will be for nothing if we don’t go right now!”
“They’re gonna kill you for sure now. You’re gonna be hanged at the courthouse square.” Annie’s voice shook, and she finally peeled her eyes from John.
“Not if we go now. Come on.”
Annie nodded and finally snapped out of it before following him to the car. He lifted Ryan and put him back inside, not even bothering to buckle him in.
“Is that man dead, Daddy?”
Charlie put the car in gear, expecting someone else to stop them. As they sped down the street, his fear of someone jumping out at them began to dissipate, though he still had John’s death on his conscience. “Yes, he’s dead, Ryan.”
“Why did you kill him?”
Charlie looked in the rearview mirror, once at Ryan, and once to make sure that no one was following them. “So he can’t hurt us anymore.”
Annie couldn’t believe that Charlie had killed John. Sitting in the passenger seat, she tried to rest, but every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was John’s dead body sprawled out on the asphalt, his dead, vacant stare causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand up. She was conflicted. She was glad he’d gotten what he deserved. He had taken so much from them and was involved in Mia’s death, but at the same time, the Millstone people would be looking for Charlie harder since he would be the prime suspect in John’s murder.
