“What’s your plan, boy?” his father asked.
Patrick shook his head. “I don’t know, I–” He stopped short. “I guess that’s why we’re all sitting here,” he said quietly, looking at his mother. “Ma, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life living two miles away from my brother and not being able to see him. It’s time to act. I wouldn’t be the man I want to be if I turned away from what’s right because of fear. It’s time for me to choose a path I can be proud of.”
He paused and gentled his tone “And…well, Ma, I really like this girl. I know I don’t know her very well, but…I don’t know. There’s something between us, some kind of chemistry. I need to see her again.”
Kate O’Connor sucked in a breath and a tide of alarm rolled over her face, turning it ashen. “Patrick, no! You’re going to be caught if you try to spend time with this woman. I forbid it. It’s too dangerous.”
“Ma–”
“Patrick, I said no. I won’t have it. Things are getting worse. Every day is a little more dangerous. People are disappearing into thin air. Children are reporting their parent’s private conversations to the Guard. Neighbors are spying on neighbors. Anything out of the ordinary is scrutinized and questioned.” She shook her head. “No. All it would take is one person noticing something different and reporting you. I’m not going to lose you to the Gov, too.” A sob hitched in her throat, and Patrick knew his mother was within an inch of losing it. She turned her face away from him and covered it with their hands.
Patrick glanced over at his father, who was staring cold-faced right back at him. Aaron O’Conner couldn’t abide one of his boys making their mother cry.
“Ma.” He knelt next to her and grasped her hand in his. “It’s the right thing, on so many levels. What’s going on here is wrong. I surely don’t have to convince you of that. Organization against the Gov is inevitable. At some point, we have to join those who are working to change it.
“That woman, Jordan, risked her life last night to stop Amber women from being forcibly sterilized. She’s brave and–” He sighed. “Ma, I don’t know why, but I need to see her again.”
His mother lowered her hands. She had tears in her eyes as she slumped, looking defeated. Then, finally, she gave him a slight nod. “Okay, Patrick. You’ve got my blessing.” She looked up at him, with bright eyes full with unshed tears. “Far be it for me to prevent you from following your heart and fighting for what you believe.”
“Thanks, Ma,” he whispered, squeezing her hand tightly before returning to his chair.
She nodded at her son, looking resigned. “If you’re going to do this, you might as well do it right.”
He froze with a glass of orange juice halfway to his mouth. Alarm rose from somewhere deep in his gut when a look of determination passed across her face. “You’re going to need some help.” She pointed at him. “And I won’t be takin’ ‘no’ for an answer.” She stood and headed toward the threshold that led into the rest of the house. “I’ll call the kin,” she said over her shoulder on her way out of the kitchen.
Patrick met the pacific blue of his father’s gaze.
“Don’t bother,” Aaron O’Connor said with his distinct Irish-hued English.
“What?”
“Don’t bother tryin’ to talk her out of it. It would be wasted breath.” His father rose. “I’m proud of you, son.” They shared a moment between them before he nodded once. “I’ve got to get to work.” He turned and followed his wife’s path out of the kitchen.
“I want to meet this girl who’s caught your eye, Patrick,” his mother said a few minutes later as she breezed back into the room with her ear bud already in.
And just like that, Kate O’Connor, the woman he grew up with, was back. The small hope of maybe having Shane with them again seemed to put her sound footing and iron-clad composure back in place.
He laughed and rolled his eyes, pushing his chair away from the table as his mother sat back down. “I’ll see what I can do, Ma.”
Kate O’Connor grabbed his forearm to stop his retreat from the table. “You’re a fine man, Patrick.”
He leaned over and pecked a kiss on her cheek. “I’m going to bed.”
Patrick made his way to the bedroom he and Shane used to share and sat down at the desk instead of flopping into bed as per usual. There were so many things he wanted to express to Jordan. So many ideas running around in his brain. He felt like a dumb-ass, giddy teenager instead of a grown man.
He reflected on the facts that led him to this crossroads in his life and acknowledged there was so much more that landed him in this moment of time. Shane’s designation wasn’t the only reason he’d made this sharp turn, rushing full speed toward a head-on collision with a regime fast becoming an unstoppable machine. It was that. And more.
When he’d been recruited to the National Guard seven years ago, he’d been proud of his job and held total loyalty to the Gov. Since then, leadership changed and his loyalty had eroded.
National Guardsmen, and their leader, General Morgan displayed an increasing sense of superiority toward the population. Small infractions of the law were being met with punishments of progressively disproportionate intensity. Rumors about the execution of people who wanted to leave New Atlanta to try to make it on their own in the Onyx Zone were frequent. And the massive number of surveillance cameras being installed throughout the Sapphire Zone was hard to dismiss. They were a tightly controlled population.
He’d heard General Morgan speak many times. The man delivered powerful speeches that drew the listener in and swayed them to his point of view. But lately, the speeches more closely resembled rants and his words reeked of racial superiority and the elimination of those who didn’t measure up to standards that were getting harder and harder to meet. Every year, more genetic conditions were added to the list of Automatic Disqualifiers that sent a person to the Amber Zone, and for the first time in almost a decade, the number of people being designated Amber had increased.
He was on the wrong side of what was right. He was a small cog in an authoritarian government reeking from the putrid decay of ideals the United States was built on.
Patrick sat, staring at the blank piece of paper sitting on the desktop in front of him. It took about thirty minutes of thought to sort out how he wanted to approach this first contact, this first admission of hope that there’d be something more between them. He had to address his personal feelings, his need to get to know her better as well as the cooperation and coordination of their groups. But he wanted to keep the two separate. He didn’t want to embarrass her in front of the others of her group by putting her personal business out there for all to see.
He decided on two messages: one for Jordan alone and one for the leader of the resistance. The notes would have to be in code, but not so vague the reader wouldn’t know the true meaning of what he was trying to say. He didn’t want Jordan to be caught in possession of communications that implicated her as anti-Gov. He picked up a pen and began to write.
3
At eight PM, the members of the Amber Zone resistance filled the activity room of the Wellness Center to capacity. During the day, the room was used for dance and yoga classes. It contained the standard wall of mirrors and a hardwood floor. To Jordan, the presence of the large crush of men with their rough edges and hard hearts were out of place in a room intended for little ballerinas and pregnant women learning childbirth methods.
The turnout was exceptional, all of them wanting to hear the