REBELLION (Book Three of The Criminogenic Trilogy 3) Read online

  “Do you know what this means?” Giselle whispered to Shannon, watching the orderlies closely as she did. “This means that the Foresworn were successful, the uprising is happening.” A faint smile spread across Giselle’s face. She now knew that all of her sacrifice would be for the greater good of the rebellion. Giselle knew that her sacrifice for the Foresworn was only just beginning.

  Shannon looked at her young confidant with concern. She could never be sure what she was thinking, her face devoid of any traces of emotion. Unsure if it was a side effect of the Treatment or Giselle’s greatest asset, Shannon knew that it frightened her a little bit.

  “What are you thinking?” Shannon asked softly, concerned about what the answer would be.

  Giselle simply smiled at Shannon from under hooded eyes before saying coldly; “That revenge is a dish best served cold.”

  Without warning, Giselle’s eyes started to shine with renewed passion. She leaped up from her crouched position next to Shannon and lunged toward the exhausted orderlies nearby. They were unprepared, overworked and already fearful from all of the media coverage of the rebellion. In a clear swoop, Giselle used her full body weight to pull the bigger orderly down. She knew that she needed to disable the big one first. The smaller orderly froze in fear, watching as the same feral spark started to ignite in the other patients. Disabling the bigger of the two, Giselle secured a Facility issued baton and whacked it against his head sharply. Brandishing her new weapon, she turned her attention to the overwhelmed man who had started backing toward the only exit in the Red Ward. With a devilish grin, she waved a heavy stack of keys in his face as she stalked toward him. A group of unruly patients was following closely behind the unintentional leader that Giselle had become.

  “Please!” he cried, raising his hands in surrender. “Don’t hurt me.”

  Giselle threw the set of keys toward Shannon, and motioned toward the door. Shannon knew what to do, and led the group of inmates out of the ward. Giselle stayed, watching the orderly cower against the wall. She felt angry, watching how one of her tormentors had soiled himself out of fear, and she shook her head. She crouched down in front of him, studying his cowardly face for a moment.

  “I begged you not to hurt me when I first came to this place, didn’t I?” she asked frigidly. “What makes you think that I won’t show you the same courtesy that you extended to me?”

  Sniffling, the orderly looked up at her slowly, fearing to make eye contact with Giselle. She looked down at him with repulsion, without a word, Giselle stood up and walked out of the Red Ward. Freedom was finally within her reach.

  Before Giselle could reach the Facility exit, she heard clumsy running coming from behind her. Peter had finally decided to leave the comfort of his daydreams long enough to make a run for it as well. Out of breath and out of shape, he held out one hand for her to stop, the other clutching his chest in the hopes that he could keep his heart from escaping. Giselle stopped and waited for him to catch up to her. The carnage left by the detainees who had made their escape with Shannon had secured a safe passage for all the inmates of the Facility. All except the White Ward patients who were unable to move from their Treatment induced stupors.

  “Do you need help there, old man?” Giselle mocked as she offered her arm to him for support. Peter replied with a silly grin, and used her shoulders to keep himself balanced. Trying to speak between gasps, Peter stumbled outside into the sunshine with Giselle’s help. Patients and inmates littered the pristine landscape that served as an entrance to the Facility. Giselle searched for Shannon in the crowd of chaos. Red and black jumpsuits lay scattered as patients started tearing down the oversized gate that kept them away from civilization. A tinge of panic started to creep over Giselle as she thought of what awaited them on the other side of those walls. But it was Peter who put her mind at ease between slowing gulps for air.

  “Good thing that the State hasn’t had a military for years, or we’d be in big trouble now.”

  Giselle looked over to Peter. Unable to contain her excitement any longer, she placed a long kiss on his cheek. “Oh Peter, you beautiful man! Of course!”

  Since the inception of the D.A.E, the State had focused its resources on the Facility and bulking up the Bulldog division. D.A.E enforcers were an intimidating force, but no match for a revolt of this magnitude. The police service was a formality to keep the upper Zone’s residents in a bubble of false security. The Region was on lockdown, and the unwanted dwellers of the lower zones now had the upper hand.

  ***

  Evelyn tapped her long fingers along the finely crafted desk that she sat behind. Deep in thought, she barely recognized what was happening around her. It had been a week since the first attack on the State by the Foresworn. She had been sure that the casualties would be minimal, limited to State Heads and D.A.E officials, but they were all in hiding. As she suspected, they had all tunneled themselves into the safety of the numerous safe houses that ran like a maze underneath the capital. She just needed them to relent long enough for her to smoke them all out. They were utterly unprepared for the attack, and Evelyn knew this. The only person who was sniffing around was Jonathan and his lapdog, Oliver, but both had gone to ground as well.

  Evelyn shouted out in frustration, slamming her hand down onto the table as she did. Calvin looked up from television; the last remaining media coverage came from an independent broadcaster within Zone 3. From showing only State approved programming aimed toward the lower zone dwellers, they now had the monopoly over covering the rebellion.

  “What is it mom?” Calvin asked, concerned that the cause was taking its toll on his mother.

  Evelyn cradled her face in her hands, exhausted from nights of broken sleep and days of mending the broken civilians caught in the crossfire.

  “We need to smoke them out,” she said in frustration. “They are offering their people up as sacrifices while they hide away in their gilded holes in the ground.” Evelyn suspected that the State would be this cowardly, hiding behind an unprepared Region while they sought safety in their safe houses. D.A.E enforcers had been ordered to stand guard while they dined on gourmet food and drank expensive wines. Evelyn felt disgust as she imagined Jonathan’s face laughing at the efforts of the Foresworn from his palatial cave.

  Evelyn shook away the thought, and turned her attention to the rebellion that raged around her. Women and children were being housed in the warehouse where Evelyn could ensure their safety. She had made it very clear from the beginning that no children would be harmed during the uprising, and any wandering children were brought into her care. She watched Calvin for a moment. He was concerned for her, and she could see it. She knew that he would one day ask about the elusive Jonathan Phelps and why it mattered so much that he be brought to answer for his role in the way the State ran. But that is not today, she thought. She took a deep breath, and started sliding her finger along the tablet that illuminated her face with a blue glow. She noticed a breaking story unfolding in the outskirts of Zone Four. It appeared as though her rebellion had spread as far as to behind the walls of the Facility. There had been a prison break, and all but a few patients remained within the Facility. The public was being warned to report any suspicious looking people, but not to approach them, as they are dangerous. A clip of security footage played on repeat underneath the report. It was a grainy replaying of the petite girl attacking a large orderly in the ward. Evelyn watched the video clip twice before calling Calvin over to her with excitement.

  “See,” she said, pointing out the wild woman, “I told you that she was a strong one.”

  As Calvin started the video to see who his mother was talking about, he was interrupted by one of the Foresworn soldiers.

  “Sorry to interrupt, Evelyn, but I have someone here to see you. She says that it is important.”

  Evelyn stood to meet her unexpected guest, and her eyes met the startling blue eyes of Giselle Harmon. Still wearing a red jumpsuit, she smiled with relief when Evelyn
pulled her close into her embrace.

  “Oh Giselle!” Evelyn sobbed gleefully. Calvin circled the two, waiting for his opportunity to be near the woman he loved. Finally free from the tight hold that Evelyn kept her in for longer than necessary, Calvin kissed Giselle with fervor. He could not be happier to see anyone at that moment.

  “Don’t worry,” Giselle spoke between kisses from Calvin. “No one followed me here, but I brought home some strays.”

  Evelyn chuckled, “You are perfect for each other then aren’t you?” She then motioned to a Foresworn soldier to bring in the rest of the escaped Facility detainees that Giselle had brought with her.

  Chapter Five

  Andrea Clinton sat before the State Council. The escaped inmates had only escalated the state of panic that consumed the Region. Zone One councilmen and women scuttled frantically, trying to find a resolution to the anarchy that surrounded them. She fidgeted with her fingers while listening intently as they deliberated. She had to answer for her insubordination, and the State needed someone to blame. Andrea Clinton and her experiments provided the perfect candidate to hold responsible for the rebellion.

  After two weeks of relentless attacks on D.A.E offices and State Facilities, the rebellion finally had a face. The Foresworn stepped forward with their masked leader to claim responsibility for their actions. However, they still insisted that the real people to blame were those in the State. Still hoping for a resolution, the State brought in everyone who could be held accountable. Jonathan sat next to Andrea. He had insisted that she be hired at the Facility, and the state had approved. Her radical treatments and pioneering insistence that she could cure the patients of the Facility inspired the State. The Facility was designed around the State’s need to control society, and its desire to produce the perfect race. Segregations were imposed to try to control the underclass masses, and keep the upper class minority from being exposed to their poverty. But even the impoverished will tire of being shunned.

  “You assured us that the Treatment would work, that you could rehabilitate the convicts.” A weathered man dressed in the finest suit glared down at her from his podium, face reddened with anger.

  “Jonathan, you too were meant to ensure that a rebellion would never occur. We assumed that you would be able to prevent this, but look at what we are faced with now.”

  Jonathan looked to the panel of his persecutors; they were forced to meet in a safe house that was situated under the University. Zone One residents used the labyrinth of tunnels that ran underneath the Upper Zones but it was only a matter of time before the Foresworn discovered their safe haven. The State knew this, as did Jonathan. They all knew with certainty that it was only a matter of time before they were at the mercy of the rebels. With an ongoing state of war consuming the Region, all the resources they once had at their disposal had been depleted. There was no way for Jonathan to communicate with Oliver; he wasn’t even sure if his trusty Bulldog was still alive.

  “Now wait just a minute.” Jonathan spoke finally, frustrated with the constant accusations being thrown their way. “You ordered these sanctions. It was you who demanded that the Zones be separated, you brought this upon yourselves.”

  The panel was horrified by his outburst, flushed faces and embarrassed glares steamed down from the podium where they sat. Jonathan didn’t care anymore; he was fed up of crawling through the city like a rat in the night. He was tired of living with the fear that he would be the next target for the Foresworn. He had only just recovered from an attack on his life, and he knew that he was still a target for the rebellion. Tired of hearing their words, Jonathan stood up and prompted Andrea to do the same. Words were no longer valid in the Region, the State no longer held the power, and he no longer wanted to answer for the wicket deeds that they all encouraged.

  “I’ve heard about enough,” he said while walking toward the exit, “You fools don’t realize that you are no longer in control. You have no authority here anymore, and good riddance too!” With that, walked out of the meeting with a purpose, and renewed drive to stay alive by any means possible. Being associated with Andrea Clinton and the State would not help his cause at all.

  Winding through a maze of tunnels that webbed underneath the city, Jonathan made his way home. He and Beatrice were able to return to the luxury of their penthouse suite, although neither had spoken to each other since the rebellion started. The Foresworn had allowed Zone One and Two residents to go back to their homes in peace, but would lash out at any D.A.E official caught out in the streets. The mysterious leader seemed compassionate to the needs of civilians, sending in Lower Zone inhabitants with food and water for them. This simple display of humanity sent a resounding message to the Region that the Foresworn were now in charge.

  Standing at the doorway of his luxurious home, he paused to take in his surroundings. The antique furniture that he kept around him represented years of hard work and dedication. Walking toward the mammoth, glass wall that overlooked the city, he saw the ruins of Zone One, smoke and ash still circulating around it. He watched the people below hurrying around like ants, taking everything that they could get their hands on. Zone Two residents were being caught sneaking into Zone One to pillage the remains. He saw Beatrice flipping through a worn out magazine with chipped fingernails. He studied her coarse features for a moment, taking in the woman that he met forty years earlier. She had endured numerous affairs and love children from him, and yet she still stayed by his side.

  “I really am an ungrateful bastard, aren’t I?” he said, hoping for some answer from her.

  Beatrice raised one tired eyebrow up from behind the magazine and let out a deep, irritated breath. “Oh, what is it now, Jonathan?”

  Shaking his head, he looked to her with sadness, visibly upset that he had caused her so much pain over the course of their marriage. Nothing he could do would rectify that now; the damage was already done.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I have been the worst human imaginable. You gave me everything, and I just gave you hell.”

  Beatrice looked toward her husband. He had become the shadow of the man that he once was. She didn’t love him anymore, and hadn’t for years. But she knew that her position would have been secured had she just stuck it out with him while he worked his way up to becoming the Director. Affairs and love children meant that she didn’t have to put in that energy for him, she just needed to be able to portray the wounded wife each time. His apology was appreciated, but for naught.

  “That’s all right. Apology accepted.” She responded icily, uninterested in pandering to his self-pity.

  He moved toward the open window behind where Beatrice was seated. Taking in all of his surroundings one last time, Jonathan Phelps leapt to his death. His body an unrecognizable splatter on the pavement below was the final justice for the Foresworn.

  ***

  Walking through the desolate streets that once shone with excess, Giselle and Calvin saw the aftereffects of the Zone One attacks. The Foresworn had successfully overthrown the State, and had started to form a new governing body. The first order of business was the abolishment of zoning. Calvin guided Giselle over rubble and mortar, gently leading her toward the park that still remained in the center. There weren’t many people nearby, but the sounds of children giggling had intrigued the two, and they followed the jovial sounds.

  “Did you ever think that this would happen?” Calvin asked, breaking their comfortable silence.

  Giselle thought back to what she had been through while in the Facility, and thought of being reunited with her family now that the Foresworn had reclaimed the Regions.

  The ruins around her reminded her that they had won, but she wondered what would happen next. Where would this path lead her and her family? Where would Peter Ronin and the other renegades go now? The Zones had been united, and there was no limit to what Evelyn’s new government could do.

  “I honestly hoped that it would for years.” Giselle replied.

  As they
neared the park, the sounds of playful laughing filled them with hope. The small patch of greenery was unaffected by the war on Zone One. Brightly dressed children filled the playground with their light, like shining beacons of a bright future for the Region. Giselle smiled, content that the sacrifice and struggle was not in vain. Calvin was preoccupied with the wasteland that surrounded the park; remnants of the former Golden City lay scattered all around them. He couldn’t see the potential that Giselle was seeing around her.

  “But look,” he said, pointing out the rubble. “It’s all ruined. What are we going to do now?”

  Giselle watched the children playing without a care, and a new wave of happiness swept over her. She turned to Calvin and touched his face. He would never know how blessed he was to be a part of this history, she thought. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as they sat under the only tree that remained in the park.