Revolution

- 15 -

I glance up from my notepad.

Seventeen names are scrawled on it in my poor handwriting, little more than a frantic attempt to organize my thoughts in writing. Next to the names are their appropriate abilities and where I last saw them. It doesn't do much good, considering I didn't know if they escaped or how far ahead of me they were. I didn't see any traces of them in the forest, but I can only go in one direction; for all I know, they could've traveled miles in the other direction and I'd be none the wiser.

A noise dragged me out of my thoughts and now I'm sitting stock still on the floor, pencil gripped in my shaking hand. It sounds almost familiar, and that's terrifying.

Murmurs arise downstairs from the rest of the family, laced with concern. I tilt my head to hear them better from the open door. I can't make out any words, but then the house shakes. I slowly clamber to my feet, nervousness already making the moment tense.

There's the pounding of frantic footsteps as someone races up the stairs, and a brief sweep of nearly bioelectrical signals tells me it's Brandon. He bursts into the room moments later, sliding over to the closet on the other end and yanking a red bag off the hangar.

"What's going on?" I ask, setting the pencil and notepad down on his bed.

He doesn't look at me when he answers, instead tearing random items of clothing out of his dresser and shoving them in the bag. "Dynagenesis people."

I curse. "They're here for me."

"They probably don't know you're actually here. They've done random security checks of nearby houses before."

"Why?"

He finally turns to face me, bag swinging in his hand. "I don't know, but you need to hide or leave. They're gonna tear this building apart."

I shut my eyes and reach out as far as I can. There's frantic energy in the main room from 3 other sources, but there are eighteen other humans surrounding the house.

I open my eyes and look at Brandon. "They're everywhere. They're going to find me."

He grabs a huge stick of wood from the corner of his room. "Not if I can help it." He sees my look of confusion at the object, and gestures non-threateningly. "Baseball bat."

I nod. "Follow me."

I race down the stairs, leaping down the last few and rolling into a swift sprint. Brandon runs down clumsily after me. I skid into the room where the rest of his family are talking in hushed tones, Jason peeking out the window through the curtains to the agents surrounding the house. I tear him away and he yelps.

"Listen to me. Do not, under any circumstances, tell them I was ever here. If they show you evidence, deny it. Do not slip, you hear me?"

The family stares at me in bewildered silence. After a few moments, Janice gives a small nod, and I decide that will have to be enough.

I sprint from room to room, grabbing the weapons I had stolen from the facility earlier. The guns are a familiar weight in my hand, and I let a small smirk slip. Brandon follows behind me, slamming into the doorway ungracefully, and I roll my eyes when he can't see. "What are you doing?" He whispers, and I shove the pistols in my loose waistband.

"Stocking up. You only have two entrance doors, but there's a window just above one of your block machines in the basement that I think I can crawl through. After that, I'll either hide, run, or fight, depending on who finds me, the safety of the situation, and how many rounds I have left."

He looks stunned for a moment. "You went in our basement?"

"The only time I've slept was about thirty-one hours ago and it was because I went unconscious. I had plenty of free time." I glance past him when I hear yelling outside. "However, that is not our main priority right now. You know the plan. Make sure your family follows it exactly."