Chapter 16: Checkpoint
The rabid, sandy-colored dogs hasten towards our van as a checkpoint guard scrambles behind them. He glares at us with beady, laser-like eyes.
“Act normal,” whispers George but I can hear the fear locked in his voice.
“Yes,” agrees Royce with a steadier voice, “don’t act guilty. George, you especially have to keep natural. Remember, you’re a government guardian. You should be able to get us out of this.”
“It isn’t going as planned,” George blurts, his eyes on the incensed guard. “Who is that guy?”
“Plans change,” Royce announces just before the deranged dogs reach us. George opens the window to the guard pointing a menacing black pistol at us.
“My dogs don’t seem to like you,” he sneers at George. The furious animals snarl and growl while thumping against the van.
“Hi,” George manages to say. “You’re new, aren’t you?”
“You’re a guardian?” he snarls, looking at George’s guardian lapel pin with doubt.
“Yes, my name is George ST8000. I’m due at Headquarters 2 in about an hour.”
The guard’s arrogant face stares George down. “I suppose you think that because you’re a government employee like me I should let you go just like that?”
“Well—”
“Wrong! My job is to protect,” he snaps, “and my dogs have chosen your vehicle.” He glares into the van, snarling at us. “You’ve got a huge problem, buddy! My dogs have sniffed the most wanted criminal’s clothes, and they seem to think something’s wrong here!”
My fake parents must’ve given them an article of my clothing. I tell myself not to panic.
“Something is very wrong,” the guard emphasizes.
“Maybe they don’t like my deodorant,” George mumbles nervously.
“Very funny—a comedian!” the guard sneers. “Now, park this vehicle on the side of the road.”
With vehicles both in front and behind us, we can’t escape even if we tried. George maneuvers the van to the shoulder of the road. The growling dogs and the guard follow us.
“This is a mistake,” states George nervously. “A big mistake. I—“
“I need your thumbprint—NOW! And when I finish with yours, I’ll have everyone else’s!”
We’re goners. I put my hand on my slingshot because I’m not going down without a fight.
The guard pulls a fingerprint device from his pocket with his left hand.
“Put your thumb on it,” he orders as he places his own on the corresponding part. The identity scanner is only set to work if it can identify who is demanding the fingerprint.
George obliges and an approval sound rings. The guard studies the information eschewed from the small screen of the device. Grunting, he looks at George. “So, you’re who you say you are.”
“Of course I am,” George says, sounding indignant. “Who else would I be?”
“Look, rules are rules,” he snaps. “The dogs are going nuts for a reason, and I’ll have to check everyone else’s prints before I can let you go.”
My hand curls itself around the slingshot in my pocket. I’d have to judge the best time to use it—without endangering anyone. The guard has a gun after all.
“You’re next, girlie,” he declares, looking straight at me.
This is going to get very sticky in just a few moments. “Okay,” I mumble as I stick out my thumb.
“What are you doing, TP0000?!” a spiked voice roars at the guard as I am about to put my thumb on the identity scanner.
“Commander, I—”
Another guard with shinier emblems eyes him with disgust. “Why are you wasting your time here when we’ve got to check so many vehicles?”
“But, commander, the dogs . . .” TP0000 says helplessly.
“Down!” the commander yells at the dogs, and they immediately become calm.
“I’m just doing my job.”
“I’m a few minutes late and all goes crazy,” the commander grunts. “It’s a good thing I came when I did, or you would’ve been kicked out of the force, rookie.”
For the first time, the guard lets down his arrogant stance and gulps heavily. “I would’ve been fired?”
“Do you know who this is?” he asks, indicating George.
“I took his thumbprint and—”
“He’s a higher up guardian—a lot higher than you.”
“But—”
“Put the stupid pistol DOWN!” he orders.
“But—”
The commander swiftly yanks the gun out of the guard’s hand with one swoop.
“My weapon,” the guard mumbles helplessly.
The commander turns to George. “I apologize for this inconvenience, Mr. ST8000.”
“But the dogs signaled his vehicle out,” the guard declares defensively.
“Of course they did,” the commander states. “We’re testing the dogs.”
“Testing the dogs?” gulps TP0000.
“We’re making sure the dogs are on target. We do this ever so often. Didn’t you learn anything in training, rookie?”
The guard gulps again. “I’m sorry . . . I didn’t know . . .”
“This is meant for an exercise and not to harass one of our most important citizens,” the commander snaps.
“I’m very sorry . . . I—”
“Stop apologizing to me. I’m not the one you offended. Your incompetence makes me wonder about you.”
The guard turns to face George, very different from the arrogant person who had pointed a weapon at us. “I’m so sorry . . . I didn’t know about the exercise . . . I hope you don’t use what happened here against me. . . I was just doing my job,” he grovels. “I’m so sorry.”
“Its okay, TP0000. But next time, know what’s going on,” George snaps.
“I will,” he mumbles. “You’re not going to report me, are you?”
“I’ll let this one go—this time.”
“Thank you! Thank you!”
“Go back to your post,” orders the commander. “I’ll take this from here.”
Only too happy to leave, the guard rushes away. The commander turns to George as soon as TP0000 and the rabid dogs are back at their station checking other vehicles and far away from us.
“Sorry about that,” he announces. “My tardiness couldn’t be helped.”
“Nothing serious I hope,” George says.
“The same old stuff from the old farts at Headquarters 1 . . . I hate those idiots so much,” he growls.
He’s one of us!
“I’m afraid we’re in for trouble,” the commander continues.
George rolls his eyes. “What are they up to?”
“Let me put it this way, it’s a good thing you’re undertaking this mission now. They’re about to re-set the spy cameras.”
The government had been trying for a long time to put the whole planet under its watchful eye—to protect us according to them, but something always goes wrong with the electronics. After the environmental changes took place on earth just before the United World leaders took over, electrical systems changed. Climate change altered magnetic energy.
“This time we won’t be able to mess up their system so easily,” the commander says dryly.
“When are the spy cameras set to work?”
“According to what they told me this morning, they’re set to be on in a few weeks.”
“A few weeks?” asks Peter, concern in his tone.
The commander nods. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“We’ll just have to be at Freedom Warriors Headquarters by then,” Royce declares. “We don’t have a choice. Supernova has to get there."
The commander’s face turns to me. His blue eyes sweep over me.
“Is she the one?” he asks excitedly.
“Yes,” George states.
“You’re her,” he gushes, grabbing my hand with both of his.
“I’m me,”
I mumble, puzzled by this man’s odd behavior.
His tough guardian stance folds, and he looks like a giddy child with the first ice cream cone of the summer. “I’m so honored to meet you.”
“To meet me?” I ask with disbelief.
“You’re the Supernova!”
“That’s what they tell me,” I mutter nervously.
“The Supernova!” he repeats with flourish. “We’ve been waiting for you for so long.”
“Waiting?”
“We were waiting for the right time to get you where you need to be.”
“With a few weeks before the spy cameras are on,” Royce says dryly, “we’d better hurry.”
“I’ll wave you across the checkpoint,” the commander declares, his tough stance returning.
“Thanks,” Royce says.
“It’s been an honor to meet you, Supernova.”
“Likewise,” I return.
“George, just remember you have to be at Headquarters 2 shortly,” states the commander.
“I know.”
“I’ll call them to tell them that there was a problem with our rookie, but that won’t buy you much time,” the commander informs.
“I’ll make it.”
“Good luck—all of you.”
“Í thought we were going to get caught,” Peter mentions when we’re far from the checkpoint station.
George nods solemnly. “That was a close call!”
The dogs’ arduous barks are still fresh in my ears, and TP0000’s arrogant eyes twist my stomach with disdain.
“I just can’t believe that the commander is one of us,” I express, the words shooting out of my mouth.
“You’d be surprised at how many are with us, Madrigal,” Royce declares.
Can it be true? “Really?”
“There are many who are frustrated and ready for a change,” Peter explains.
I contemplate his words. “Really?” I repeat.
“You saw how the commander is risking it all for the resistance,” Peter asserts.
I nod in deep thought.
George heavy foot pushes down on the gas pedal. We’re traveling above speed limit on the freeway.
“You’re going too fast, George,” states Royce. “Ease up on the gas.”
“I need to get to Headquarters 2 on time.”
“We can’t risk a law guardian stopping us.”
Frowning, he slows down. “Okay.”
“What are we going to do at Headquarters 2?” I ask, despising the idea of being at the government offices.
“I’m the only one who’s going,” George explains.
My eyes abruptly shift to him, puzzled. “What about us?”
“We’ve got our own path to take,” Royce announces.
I examine the road ahead of us. More freeway. There’s another checkpoint at the entrance of Area 2, and Headquarters 2 is just a few feet from it. My guess is that George will have to leave us off somewhere before he arrives at his official destination. Area 2—my heart thumps with frenzied excitement and dread at the same time. I was born in Area 2 when it used to be San Antonio before the leaders put the world in regions and threw away their names. Paris is no longer Paris—it’s Area 50. Of course, it isn’t the same tourist city it was before, nor is San Antonio or any other popular vacation spot because travel no longer exists. All people, except for the guardians, have to stay in specific areas. The leaders tell us that it’s for our own good. If they keep track of us, they can make sure we’re safe. What liars! They want to keep us in place but according to my new friends, more people are questioning their nonsense.
Good!
It’s about time!
As we quietly travel, heading towards my birthplace—a place I haven’t been to since I was a child—I stare at the green scenery outside. Even though I appreciate the lush surroundings, I’m not really looking at them. I’m dreading returning to the place my parents died in even though it’s completely different from when I was a kid there. Because of climate change, earth has completely transformed. Extreme weather like floods, tornadoes, hurricanes, tsunamis, and other tragedies have struck most places on the planet. The United World leaders swept in like saviors to rebuild our crumbling environments—at their convenience of course.
What a conundrum, I tell myself as we near my birthplace, to love and dread a place at the same time.
“You can leave us off here,” states Royce.
The checkpoint to Area 2 is only a few miles down the road.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to get you closer?” George asks.
“No,” Royce answers. “It’s too dangerous. We can walk.”
George maneuvers the van off the freeway, taking the first off ramp that comes up. He only stops the vehicle when we’re in a wooded area—hidden from view.
“Be very careful,” he pleads with concern as we tumble out of the van.
“We will,” Royce says as he pulls out a backpack from under the seat and hands it to me. “We’ll each carry one,” he states.
Good thinking. We’ve got supplies.
I give George a hug before we set off. I’m surprised at my tendencies toward affection lately.
“Don’t say good-bye,” he orders me, his eyes full of tears. “Just say, ‘I’ll see you.’”
“Okay,” I return, my own eyes blurry. “I’ll see you soon.”
We hear the van leave behind us as Royce, Peter, and I walk into the woods. We’re quiet and with a determined look on our faces. The large, bulky trees infuse me with strength as I gaze at their majestic poses.
“I hope you know where we’re going,” Peter tells Royce.
“I do.”
“Are we going through the city at all?” I ask with a small voice.
“No, we’re staying in the woods.”
I’m relieved and disappointed at the same time. I won’t get to see my place of birth or the place my real parents are buried in.
“We could die in the forest,” Peter smirks.
“We’re not going to die,” snaps Royce.
“It’s a possibility.”
“Keep your negative thoughts to yourself.”
“But—”
“Stop fighting,” I demand. “Remember what we promised Constanza.”
Peter groans unhappily. “Sorry for questioning you.” He doesn’t sound the least bit sorry.
“We’ve got plenty of supplies and water in our backpacks. We aren’t going to die any time soon,” Royce declares, a growl in his tone.
“Of course we’re not,” I state. “Let’s stop talking about death, okay?”
Royce eyes me. “I think that’s a great idea.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Agreed then,” Royce utters.
“Do you think we could stop to eat?” asks Peter. “All the hoopla at the checkpoint made me hungry.”
“You’re already hungry?” Royce asks, disbelief in his voice.
“Yeah,” Peter states, his voice sounding defensive.
“We can’t stop to—”
When a twig snaps, I instinctively dive into the branches of a fallen tree on the ground next to me. The plentiful, green leaves cover me. Royce and Peter are not so lucky.
“Don’t move!” snarls a soldier as he comes into view with a threatening military rifle pointing at them.