tagged: critique desired

[volture]

so i'm not exactly sure what kind of a reaction this will get but i need help evolving the first half of my novel and developing the second.

i'm going to try and post a chapter per day. some will be long and some will be short
they alternate in character later in the story, so i'll use different colors and put their names at the top of each post. please please please please please give me honest and brutal feedback.

overview:
this is a story called tagged and it's your typical post apocalyptic hunger games meets holocaust type story and i'm attempting to differentiate it from the hunger games and divergent and all that jazz
our main character is a naive teenager named rory mccaddams, and he does some journeying and later in the story, you'll start to switch perspectives but that's not gonna be for a while.

rory chapters will be this blue color
dan chapters will be in this maroon color

thanks for taking time out of your day for my lil story c: <3

[volture]

1
There are two sides to every war: good and evil.

Seventy five years ago, there was a steady decline in the human population of the Earth. Resources were almost gone, and it was extremely difficult to feed nine billion people. There was an outbreak of disease brought on upon by the laboratory generated cornmeal that was sent to the Third-World countries in order to feed everyone. It acted like cancer but spread faster than influenza, wiping out 95% of the world's population. The remaining four-hundred million people populated what was North and South America under a new leader, Emperor Lucifer Swan. The nation was called Mulloch. There was peace for a period of time, but then fighting broke out, and an Uprising began. There was much violence, no city was safe. People feared to leave their houses for months. The Emperor's minions, the Law, brought down the fighting, and jailed anyone and everyone who was related in any way to the Uprising. The Emperor had everyone in Mulloch tagged with a ten digit number and barcode on their wrist. Whenever someone entered or exited a building they had to scan their barcode. The number was used by the Law instead of names. It has been said that the Law didn't know anyone's name, not even their own; only numbers.

It was also said that your code was also used for tracking. Some say that when they tattoo you, they insert a microscopic GPS chip into your wrist so the Law can access your whereabouts at all times. When you turn seventeen, you get tagged. My seventeenth birthday was in exactly a week, on June 12. I already knew I didn't want the barcode. But what choice did I have? Either get the code or be locked up in Sinto Prison until you consent to have it needled onto your arm, and then to be watched closely by the Law for the rest of your life.

A friend of mine, Demitry, had turned seventeen a month ago. He kept saying to me that he wasn't going to get the tattoo, that he was going to join a group called the Renegades. I had heard that name before in school, about their part in the Uprising. It was said that they were the ones who originally started the Uprising. No one knew who exactly they were, or how to find them (as that was their point, not wanting to get caught by the Law) but they were always there. I hadn't seen Demitry in five weeks, since he left town to go join the Renegades. Odds were, he was dead. If he's not, he was probably in Sinto Prison or hiding out in a dark hole off the charts.

There was a chance, a slim chance, that he may have reached them. I hoped to God he had.

Funny thing to say: “I hoped to God”. There is no God, as we had been told for generations. There is only the Emperor and the good of the country. I remember learning about these little organisms called ants. They died out along with the huge population drop. They were very efficient beings, working together for the good of the whole, but they seemed to have no emotions or feelings towards the other ants around them. They were sort of like robots. I related them sometimes to the Law; emotionless, robotic, working for “the good of the nation”.

I lived in a little town called Jericho. People said that it was named after a “Holy City” described in an Old Book called the Bible. We lived on the eastern coast of North America. I read somewhere that the body of water that separates us from the next town over was once called Chesapeake Bay way back when. I was a bookish person, always looking for things to link us to our past. My town was moderately large, almost 5,000 people living here. I lived with my mother, father, younger brother and older sister.

My parents played no part in the decision I had to make. My father was never home. He was a Service Worker. In Mulloch, you were sent into one of four jobs after you finish school; Service, Factory, Administration or Technology. Where you're sent to depends on your strong points in school. If you did well in Language, you are sent into Service. My father spoke the three main Languages, plus 5 of the Old Languages that died out with the population drop. Service workers served the people of the city, working in stores, boutiques, hotels and tourist agencies. If you did well in Mathematics, you were sent to Technology. Tech workers made sure everything in the entire town ran smoothly, from the Zip Cars to street lamps. If you did well in Leadership and Historics, you were sent to Administration. Our town's Mayor, the school principals and the corporation leaders are all in Administration. The Factory workers lumped together the oddballs who didn't fit into one category. The Factory workers were mainly stupid people and immigrants whose files never got transferred.

I was destined for Service, like my father, though I did not look forward to my future. My father was bitter with repetition. There had to be something better than this monotony.

[volture]

2
School was incredibly boring. Each one of us would sit in a small, completely white room in our own houses in front of a huge computer monitor with a camera. Our teacher would monitor us through the camera and controlled our computers. Nothing was done on paper.. Seventy five years ago, trees were one of the resources our world fought to control. Before the disease consumed every corner of the earth, there were hardly any trees. In many places, the oxygen levels were so low only those who had been living there for decades could withstand it. The Emperor made a valiant effort to introduce trees back onto the surface of the earth, and there were quite a few small but dense forests. Since then, nothing was made out of wood, everything was either plastic, hemp or metal. Everything was done virtually. During testing days, we couldn’t leave that room or chair for five hours.

I had only just got out of that tiny room. If it was any other color but white it would have been a lot easier to bear. I passed my parents sitting in their VRCs (Virtual Reality Chairs. Apparently they were similar to a thing from the olden days called "television") and headed up the HoverLift to my bedroom. As I entered the small, dark room, only the light from my three personal computers and my 50 inch television. My family was middle class, so this was just the bare essentials. I sat down in my chair and checked the usual social networking sites; SmashFace, SocialCentral and Tremmor. Everyone who had friends had at least one of these profiles. I rarely used any of them except for SmashFace to keep in touch with a few friends I met on an exchange trip to San Romero a few months ago. One of them, Carianne, would turn seventeen three days before me. She lived almost 100 miles away in a rural town of Cornhusk. She seemed to have a bit of a thing for me. She wasn't bad looking; strawberry blonde hair and grey-ish eyes, tall and thin like a stick. Thin lips, thin hair and a narrow nose. Not unattractive, but I just didn't feel that way for her.

Blip!

I turned to my computer to see who sent me a message on SmashFace, making the noise. Speak of the devil. Carianne messaged me saying:

<Have you decided?>

I replied back with a simple <I don't know yet.>

Her reply took a minute, but when it came it read: <You either go or stay. It's not that hard, Rory>

I sighed in exasperation and typed back: <Whatever.>

Carrianne's reply came back within five minutes.<I've made mine. I'm leaving in 5 days. A friend of mine says the Law spotted them outside of Horosville a week ago. It's about the time where they set up camp in one spot to take in new recruits. I'm passing through Jericho in seven days. I'll wait behind Guiseppie's at noon for one hour, then I'm gone. Make your decision by then.> With that, her chat icon blipped out.

I sat back in my chair and ran my hands through my sand-colored hair. I put my hands on my knees and got up, making my way out of my room into the sanitary unit, leaning against the basin and looking into the mirror at my gaunt face. I studied my angular features and my overly-expressive eyebrows, my washed-out blue eyes and the medium length sand colored hair hanging in front of my face. I ran a hand across my sharp chin and the stubble that had grown back from yesterday morning. My birthday was in one week, meaning that if I were to leave with Carianne, I would have to make my decision on the spot. No turning back. I sighed heavily and hung my head in deep thought. I didn't have to decide today, did I? I walked out of the sanitary unit and back into my room. I flopped back into my chair, propped my feet up, and surfed the Net to my own discretion.

[volture]

3
Two days left, I thought as I aimlessly scrolled down my Tremmor feed, finding nothing interesting, only passing the time, Two days left until I have to decide my fate.

“Rory Charles McAddams, get down here right now or your power will be shut down!”

I heard the shrill voice of my mother blaring through the Communication system. I reluctantly looked up from my third computer screen and switch off all the monitors before sluggishly making my way down to the dining unit. I sat down at my place across from my younger brother and next to my older sister. My family is the standard family of five. Here in Mulloch, families are only allowed three children in an attempt to control the population to an extent. My older sister Lianna was only here for a few more weeks before she was to go off to Training. She was placed in Administration, in an important position: Parliament. When her eight year long Training was completed she would be shipped off to the Capital City to fulfill her job. My parents were incredibly proud of her.
McAddamses were usually sent to Services, but rarely had the qualifications to be sent to Administration. To top it off, Lianna's beauty and personality were exquisite. Her hair laid in tight platinum blonde curls cascading down her back and caressing her face, her bright blue eyes sparkled with light and soul and her blossom pink lips puckered just perfectly. She was tall and lean and looked perfect at any time of the day. My younger brother, Joseph, mirrored her good looks. His hair was loose and curly around his face and his eyes just as bright as Lianna's, but much more mischievous. At only twelve years old, he already had girls flocking to hang out with him, though he was all too immersed in his VRCRPG games to even notice. Typical pre-teen boy. I had always felt rather plain standing between my two siblings, my lanky hair hanging straight down and my washed-out eyes lacking spark.

My father felt the same way compared to his siblings. I glanced at my father and saw his familiar grey-blonde hair pushed back off his face and his small but thick glasses perched on his nose. I shared his angular features and smirking, thin lips. He and I were very much alike, many friends but no one to confide in but each other. I always felt I had an ally in my father, even through my mother's rampages. I glanced over at my mother. Lianna and Joseph got their golden curls and soft, personable features from the ironically very short-tempered woman who birthed us. She had the same curling cascades as Lianna and her eyes were a deep blue, but always critical; analyzing every single aspect of our lives. I was always having a disagreement with my mother, and usually my brother and sister would back her up just to make themselves look better. I was left with only my father, which brought us very close.

When everyone's plate was sufficiently full, dinner conversation began; the usual “how was your day?” and “anything new at school?”. My sister went on about the excitement she had for training, and my brother gave the usual “nothing much”. When the question came around to me, I just shrugged and gave the same non-expressive answer as my brother, though my mother wasn't done with me yet.

“Rory? Your birthday is coming up. Are you ready to toss that scan card and finally get the tattoo?” she asked me, turning towards me and staring directly into my soul with her piercing blue eyes. I looked down at the scan card on the lanyard around my neck. Everyone under seventeen had one for clearance to get into buildings and public areas. I then glanced at my sister's left wrist, tattooed with that barcode I so dread. I looked up at my mother and shrugged noncommittally.

She raised one eyebrow and pursed her lips together, looking for more of an answer.

I dreaded the thought of her reaction to my considering of joining the rebels, so I was determined not to give away any sort of answer. I shrugged again. My mother frowned deeply, creating deep craters in her forehead.

“When I turn seventeen, I don't wanna get the tattoo.” Joseph stated, sitting up a bit in his chair. Lianna smirked almost condescendingly and my mother turned her glaring attention to my brother.

“Do you have any idea the stupidity of the words that just came out of your mouth?” my mother's critical voice cut through the air and sliced directly into Joseph's heart. “When you turn seventeen, you are trusted with a privilege, that privilege being the right to go about on your own. Without the barcode, how are you going to get on in life, hm? The Emperor does so much for this nation and people like... like Them just go to show that some people are just too stupid to accept help from someone else.” My mother had always refused to say the Renegade's name, she thought it brought disgrace to anyone who uttered it. “If you ever say something so thoughtless ever again young man, so help me your power will be gone for a month.”

Joseph had slumped so far down in his seat I could barely see the top of his blonde head. Lianna politely excused herself from the table. I stuffed the last bit of food into my mouth and excused myself without a word. My father glanced after me, but my mother was so busy being angry with Joseph she didn't even notice. I shut myself up in my room.

[volture]

4
A half hour later, I heard a buzz indicating someone wanted to enter my room. I pressed the button to open my door that was built into my desk without looking to see who it is.

“Rory?” I heard in Josephs small voice.

I turned my chair around to look at my younger brother and he had tears in his eyes. His face was red on one cheek, probably from a slap my mother gave him and his hair hung a little limper than usual like it did when he was sad or unhappy. “Yeah, Joe?”

“Are you going to get the tattoo?” he asked me, sitting down in the chair next to mine.

I turned my chair to face my younger brother. This was the first time in years he'd come into my room, let alone share such a heart-to-heart moment. I looked at his face, seeing my mother's hair and eyes and my father's chin and my overly expressive eyebrows, and for the first time I saw something in him that reminded me of myself; a spark of adventure. Then I thought about his question; was I going to get the tattoo? I looked him in his clear blue eyes and said “I really don't know Joseph. I don't want it, but there isn't really a choice.”

“Yes there is!” he exclaimed, sitting forward in his chair. “The Renegades! This is the recruiting season,. You could go and get away and then come back for me in five years!"

“No, Joe. It's too dangerous. Even if I do end up leaving, I wouldn't be able to come back for you. Let's face it, I'm going to be stuck here for the rest of my life doing the same job over and over again just like Dad.” I stood up and paced around my room.

“Fine. But when I'm seventeen, I'm not going to make the same mistake.” Joe said. He stood up with a huff and walked out of my room, closing the door behind him.

I paced around my room; back and forth back and forth so many times I thought to myself Surely I have made a trench by now. I finally sat down in my desk chair with a huff, turned on my monitors and opened up SmashFace. I stopped for a minute, remembering that Carianne would be well on her way towards Jericho and beyond. I sat scrolling through my list of friends, looking for someone, anyone, I could talk to about this problem. I hovered over one name; Danny Shaffer. I met him when I met Carianne, on the Exchange trip to San Romero. Danny lived in Jericho with me, but he lived all the way across town. I clicked on his name and sent him a message.

<Dan. I've got a problem. I'm turning seventeen in a week and I can't get that tattoo. Carianne's made up her mind to find the Renegades and is gonna pass through here in a week. Any advice?>

I waited for about ten minutes, randomly scrolling through my news feed, only to find that it was as dead as my social life. Just as I was about to close the page, Danny replied.

<Skip town, man. That tattoo is just a trap. I'd go with Carianne if I were you. I'd rather talk this over in person. Can you come over tomorrow?>

<Yeah, okay. Thanks.> I replied and closed the page. Finding nothing else interesting on the internet, I shut down my computer and crawled into my sleeping chamber. The chamber was basically a mattress that is made specifically for your body. It has built in heating and cooling and a VRC unit that drops down from the ceiling. I turn it on and flip through the channels, looking for anything to participate in. I found an action movie I hadn't done yet and settled in deeper under the covers.

[volture]

((the next chapter is super long... do you guys want it all at once or broken in two?))

[volture]

((all at once it is!))
5
I woke up at 6 o'clock AM, hours before anyone but Joe would be up. I got dressed and quietly slipped out or my house and made my way down to the Metro station. I stood waiting at the station for the early morning train that would come at 6:45, wondering how this day would turn out. Dan could be a bit of a hot head, but he was loyal and someone you could depend upon. He had avidly expressed is distaste in the whole idea of the tattoos. His birthday wasn't for another two months, but I had a sneaking suspicion he would run away if he had an opportunity. This gave me comfort; the fact that it wouldn't be just Carianne and I, if I did decide to go. The Metro finally slid into the station and I got in line. I scanned my scan card and found a seat near the back of the car.
I leaned my elbow on the armrest and put my chin in my hand. I gazed out at the passing scenery, the industrial skyscrapers and the small, pitiful trees the city planted to make the town more “personable”, all set against the overcast background. There were small droplets on the window from the rain that occurred earlier in the morning. I leaned my head on the window and sighed, clouding up the glass with my warm breath.

We came to the first stop on the route within five minutes, I watched one passenger exit the Metro and two board. They all wore the same bitter expression, slouching and sour as they hastily made their ways to or from their monotonous occupations. Once the train got moving again, I turned my attention to the passengers on the train. A woman sat facing me in the seat over. She was asleep. Her hair was grey and her face wrinkled; a rarity here in Mulloch, since we have the technology to keep people looking like they're in their twenties when they're in their eighties. The worn out woman must have come from the Industry night shift. I noticed her sleeve was rolled up and I spotted the barcode tattoo. It was different from all the others I had seen; it wasn't neat. It looked sloppy or hastily drawn, like a struggle was made. I studied her slumbering face and figure. She was small and crooked, crinkled skin pulled taut over the bones and joints. She looked like she had been in the work force for far too long.

More stops came and went, passengers entered and exited the Metro, either bitter with contempt or jubilant with childish energy. My stop was the final one on the route, as was the old woman's. We were the only ones to exit. We went in opposite directions, but I glanced back at her to examine her further. She walked with a slow liming shuffle, and she tended to glance around nervously every few steps. I turned and headed towards Dan's house.

I found Dan out on his porch with his vintage dumbbells. He'd always been a bit too concerned with his personal appearance, but he got laid pretty often, so I guess it worked out for him. He set the weight down and stood up to greet me with a hug. Dan was the closest thing I'd ever had to a best friend. Carianne was cool, but she could be a little too uptight. He called into the house, letting his mother know I'm here. Danny only lived with his mother; his father died in the Uprising (on the Renegade side of course), and he had no siblings. We walked off the porch and onto the sidewalk, strolling at a comfortable pace.

Dan towered over me, with his six foot four, broad shouldered stature. I was only 5'10, and thin as a stick with shoulders that stuck out, giving me a triangle-like torso. Dan's muscular and anything but a toothpick. He had short dark hair and deep, dark eyes that entrapped so many girls. He fought for sport about once a month, and was known for his powerful uppercuts. He even got in a fight with a Law officer once, which landed him on probation for a year. He had just got off probation a few weeks ago.

“So Carianne's really doing it?” Dan asked, looking straight ahead,

“Yeah...” I replied.

“Smart girl.” he said, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets and shivering slightly against the chilly air. “I know you're worried about disappointing your family and s**t, but if you don't take this opportunity, you're gonna be stuck here for the rest of your life.”

“It's not really about my entire family, Dan. It's much more about my father and younger brother. Joe wants me to come back for him in five years. I doubt he'll even remember me by then. And my dad... He's always been there for me. I can't just leave him with her. My mother will make him into a bitter old man without me there.”

“Dude, your dad's already a bitter old man.” Sometimes I hated how honest Danny was. “If it bothers you that [censored] much talk to him about it. He'll get it. You say he understands you.”

“It's not that simple man...”

“Yes it is, Rory!” Dan stopped in his tracks and turned to face me. “It really is. Either you get the tattoo and be committed to doing the same damn thing each damn day of your damned life, or you rise up against the system and do what's right. This system is [censored] up. No one should be controlled the way the Emperor controls Mulloch!” At this point, Dan was beginning to yell, and some people on the street were giving us funny looks. “The Renegades is the only way out, Rory, and you know it. Stop lying to yourself and get a grip.”

As Dan was finishing his rampage, a Law officer walked over. This guy was huge and fully equipped with guns, mace, tasers and a club. Dan's heat slowly built up more and more as the officer asked us if anything was wrong.

“Not a thing.”

“What if there is?”

Dan and I had answered at the same time. Danny has always had a loathing for the Law, as they had been the ones to kill his father.
The officer didn't even notice me as he glared at Danny. I thought I saw a little falter in Dan's posture, but it must have been very minimal, because Dan stood as sturdy as a statue and was about eye- level with the massive Law officer.

“Who do you think you are, kid? Some kind of tough guy?” the officer sneered.

“Tougher than you, fat**s.” Dan spat back.

The officer reached for his club but it was too late; Dan had already thrown a punch, knocking across the officer's left jaw, causing him to stumble back. Dan glared at him, and the officer matched his expression. Forgetting all about his club and tasers, the officer raised his fists and went at Dan in a fury. He threw a punch at Dan's face, but knowing it was coming, Dan ducked under and landed two solid blows to the officer's gut. The officer doubled over, and Dan backed off two steps to marvel at his handiwork. In a flash, the officer was right in front of him and socked him in the nose, leaving Dan stunned and bloodied. I had no idea what had come over me at the time, but I rushed at the man and plowed my shoulders straight into his chest, knocking him back a few feet, allowing Dan to recover a bit.

The officer kneed me in the crotch: hard. I crumpled to the ground and Dan took over once again, kneeing him in the gut. The officer got hold of Dan, turning him around so he had him from behind. Dan elbowed him in the solar plexus and stepped away again; this was getting out of hand and we needed to get out of there. The officer, however, wasn't finished. He came straight at Dan and punched him straight in the mouth, leaving Dan with a split lip. Dan rushed at him again and grabbed the club out of his belt and began to beat the officer over the head with it. After a few blows, the officer blacked out and crumpled to the ground.

“Oh s**t.” Danny whispered as he put the back of his hand to a bloody lip and slowly backed away from the unconscious officer. He turned to face me, but instead of looking me in the eye, he was staring up at the pole behind me, fear in his eyes. I turned around and then I saw it.

The security camera.

It was one of an older model, poorly disguised to look like a birds nest. What bird builds a nest on the top of a streetlight? The camera was composed of a passable looking birds nest and the worst looking mechanical bird ever mass produced and perched atop streetlights in the slums. The realization then hit me. The entire fight was caught on tape. The Law had officers watching these feeds at all times. They'd come to our houses within the next few hours expecting to arrest us.

“Dan. We have to get out of here.” I said, grabbing both of his shoulders. “They're gonna come for us soon, we have got to get out of here.”

Dan was in a daze. He dropped the club and put both bloodied hands to his face. For a second, I thought I saw his shoulders shudder, as if Dan: big, strong Dan, was crying. He pulled his hands away from his face to reveal not tears, but a stoic face, unfeeling.
“We can't go home. Not even for clothes. Where were you supposed to meet Carianne?” Dan said in a monotone.

“Guiseppie's. At noon.” I replied. “She said she'd be gone after an hour.” Tomorrow would have been the day I would have to make my decision, though at this point it seemed I had already made it.

“We have to find a place to hide out for the night, then we are gone.” Dan said, turning and walking briskly down the street. We walked among the shadows for a while until we found a dark alley, only occupied by an old homeless man with no barcode and a few cats. Dan took the first watch and I curled into a ball among the discarded crates and barrels. As I shivered there in the cold, I realized what the rest of my life was going to be like; running.

[volture]

(the chapters are going to begin to change so this blue color will be the color i use for rory <3 ))


Five years later

6 - Rory

I perched on tip-toe in the branches of the tree, my crossbow in my right hand and my hand- held binoculars in the other. Carianne and Brutus stood at the base of the tree, waiting for my signal. I saw no officers, so I gave the go. The pair raced on light feet towards the fence that separated the forest from the Law base. I set my crossbow into the holster I had fashioned that was strapped to my back and held the binoculars with both hands, steadying the device, watching the two figures closely.

I spotted a pair of officers, one big and burly and the other smaller, but still strong. I gave the call to Carianne and Brutus, blowing into a small high-pitched whistle. I saw the pair of Renegades dart for cover, and the two officers come to attention and wonder what the whistle was. With a hand on their clubs they went to investigate. The smaller guy was obviously not the sharpest tool in the shed, heading back the direction they came to search for the source of the noise. The bigger one, however, went right towards Brutus' hiding place. Seeing this, Carianne crept slowly out of her hiding spot, vintage frying pan in hand, and walked silently behind the big officer. Brutus, a tiny little guy, squeezed even tighter into the crevice he somehow tucked himself into. Just as the officer was about to stoop down and take a look, Carianne struck him over the head with the frying pan, knocking him out cold. Brutus flew from his hiding place and the thieves continued on with their mission, disappearing into the Law headquarters.

I climbed down from my tree and positioned myself behind a bush that lined the fence, waiting for the returning signal. They were on a mission for food, as supplies were running low. I was only supposed to wait for thirty minutes, then go back to camp. They would then send backup to rescue the two, as the most likely possibility is that they were captured.

Twenty minutes later, I heard the return signal. I saw the shadows of the two figures, food and rations not only filling the bags they took to the brim, but stuffed in every possible article of clothing. I took their bags and helped them both over the fence. We walked back to camp chattering about the mission amongst other things.

When we got back to the camp, we headed straight for the cellar. The camp had been home to the Renegades for over 3 years now, and in the past year they felt it was time to make a permanent food storage area. They dug a hole in the ground and made an insulated cellar underground, plastic crates and metal barrels holding our supply of food. We unpacked the bags and set the canned goods and non- perishable foods in with the few boxes of corn flakes that were left from the last raid. Fresh meat hung from hooks stuck into the ceiling. As we exited the cellar, I waved to the rations overseer, Mickey, who stood in the corner taking stock of the raid. Mickey was a lean African girl, with a trace of an accent she must have picked up from her parents. She had a bright smile and a bright personality.

Once outside, Brutus excused himself to use the bathroom. When I lived in Jericho, the toilets had these little streams of water that would clean ourselves for us, (there once was a thing called “toilet paper” that I am assuming this system replaced) but out here, we each have a piece of cloth that we use for personal cleanliness. Carianne and I continued on to the Leader's tent to report the success of our mission. As we walked, I noticed she was still gripping her weapon of choice very tightly like she did when she was worked up.

“Cari?” I asked, looking at her concerned.
“What.” she replied through gritted teeth.

“Is it Brutus again?” I said quietly. Cari and Brutus had been in a relationship for about six months. Brutus was a year older, and could get Cari quite mad. I always told her she needed to end it with him, but she kept making excuses why she couldn't.

“Yes.” she said, her voice faltering a little. “He always expects me to come to his rescue; to get him out of every damn situation he gets himself into.” her voice raised slightly.

I put an arm around her and I felt her body relax slightly. These little episodes were becoming more and more common lately.

Carianne took a deep breath and steadied herself just as we came to the Leader's tent. “I'm okay.” she reassured me as we walked in.

Our Leader, Stoney McCulley, had been the leader of the Renegades since the Uprising. He was old and grey around the edges, but still active and vehement about his hatred for the Law and the Emperor. He sat in a metal folding chair, hunched over maps and piles of unknown clutter. At his side stood Dan, as tall and muscular as ever with a shadow of a beard. It turned out that Danny's father was Stoney's right hand man before he was killed, and when Dan's ancestry became apparent to him, Dan was immediately appointed to his fathers old position. He was doing well in a position of power, even if he did look a little haggard.

“Our mission was a success, sir.” I said, standing up straight in front of Stoney's table.

“Good. Went off without a hitch?” he replied without looking up.

“Not without a hitch,” Carianne interjected. “I had to whack a officer over the head to rescue Brutus but that was the only bump.”

“Did you get him good?” Stoney asked with a smirk. We had caught him on a good day.

Cari smiled. “Yes, sir”

“Good. Dismissed.” Stoney said, returning his full attention to his papers. Dan followed us out, chatting with Carianne and occasionally glancing at me. We never saw eachother anymore; I was always out on a mission and he was either with Jennette or fulfilling his minion duties.

I parted ways with the two and headed over to the fire where Kaysee and Ronnie were preparing dinner. The menu consisted of the wolf meat and rice we'd been eating for the past week. I flopped into one of the plastic chairs in the gatherer circle. I was a scout, but the raiding crowd was a little too jittery and aggressive for my taste. I smiled across the circle at Polly, who I'd been off and on
with for about a year now. This was one of those “on” times, and I was expecting an invitation to her hammock-fort tonight. As we ate, the usual topics of conversation circulated through the group; what was caught, how my spy duties were and gossip about the other groups. I ate my food silently and gave the occasional nod or one-syllable answers that were required. It reminded me very much of how it was in Jericho.

It was good to be back at base. I had been in Hopland for almost a year, helping the new camp leader get his s**t together. I still don't know why Stoney sent me when he did, I was only the leader of my brigade at the time. I'd been back for almost four months now, and I was appointed Mission Overseer, with Carianne as my second in command. A pretty successful career, if you ask me. I started to zone out as I thought about Hopland, and the group continued to talk aimlessly.

Something finally caught my attention.

“I heard it's recruiting season.” said Liam. Liam spoke with a heavy Aussie accent, his parents being part of the last wave of people to come to Mulloch.

“Recruiting season is always fun, but you know it is inevitable that some of us will be shipped out to the training base.” said Ronnie, walking over to our group. He was short and stocky with the biggest and most cheerful smile of anyone at camp.

“You're safe, dude.” said Lilah with a grin. “We'd all starve to death without your wonderful root stew.” she teased.

Ronnie smiled and took her empty bowl. “I always look forward to the newbies.” he said.

“My little sister is supposed to be coming in with this wave.” said Sam.

I turned to look at Sam and remembered.

I swallowed the bite I was on and was suddenly sick to my stomach. Polly noticed me and looked at me with concern.

“Are you okay, Rory?” she asked.

I shook my head no and excused myself from the circle. As I nearly sprinted away from camp, emotions flew by me so fast I barely had any time to process them. Did he actually run away? COULD he run away? They probably had my family under surveillance since I ran away. What if he didn't? How was my family doing? Did Lianna lose her job? What if Joe was caught? Did they kill him? I have to find him.

I was almost hyperventilating by the time I stopped running. I was at the edge of the forest, looking out into the bare plane. It was almost a desert, all the resources had been sucked from it leaving it looking like a barren wasteland. I sat at the base of a tree with a thud. The setting sun shone brightly into my eyes but still I kept them open, trying to fathom these thoughts and feelings, trying to create a logical solution to all of this. I put my face in my hands and rubbed my eyes in exhaustion and hopelessness. I took my hands off my face and looked at them, examining every callous, every broken, dirty fingernail. I'd been through a lot.
I stayed at the base of that tree until Dan came and got me and took me back to camp in the middle of the night.

[volture]

7 - Dan

It was almost two in the morning when I went to get Rory. Everyone who was at the dinner circle at the time of his little incident were worried, especially Polly. I had no idea what he saw in her, she was a complete dumb***. Whatever she was, I was nominated to go after him. I walked through our dense forest and followed his footprints until they came to the edge of the forest. I couldn't see him right away, because it was dark and he was behind me. He made a small sniffling sound and I turned around to find the palest, if that was even possible for him, Rory I had ever seen. He looked like he was in a mess, his hair was all mussed and he had small cuts all over his arms and face from the whipping tree branches.

I squatted down in front of him and snapped my fingers in front of his face. He snapped to attention, coming out of his trance. He looked like he was in the middle of a week-long hangover. “Rory?” I said. “You okay, man?”

Rory opened his mouth and said something monosyllabled, but I didn't know what, so I asked him to repeat it. He tried again but failed almost as miserably.

“Come on!” I said, shaking him a little bit.

“Joe.” he finally managed to get out.

“What about him?” I said encouragingly

“Recruiting season. Right before I left he asked me to come back for him in five years. It's been five years, Dan. I have to go back.” he said. He looked like he was staring right at me but he wasn't. His eyes were vacant; Rory wasn't in there. In his mind, he was back in Jericho.

“Rory, you can't go back. The recruiters heading to Jericho left yesterday.”

“Then we have to catch up.” he said with a tone that told me the conversation was over. Rory stood up and started walking back to camp.

“I can't just leave, Rory! I have responsibilities!” I protested, walking after him.

“I'll go alone.”

“You haven't had any sleep and that journey is dangerous enough for a group, let alone one person. You can't leave!”

“Watch me.” he said in such a tone you wouldn't dare argue with him. This was a side I had never seen in him, he was usually so concerned with what others felt. I was both proud of and angry at the new selfish Rory.

As he collected food and clothing from camp, I continued to try and talk him out of it, but his mind was set. He was going to leave as soon as the sun rose. I had a feeling that Stoney would still be up, going over maps and the day's reports like always. He was practically nocturnal, that man. I walked quickly over to his tent and entered.

Sure enough, there he was, tracing a line on the new map of Guernville. As I walked in he looked up with a sharp look in his eye, which softened as soon as he saw it was me. “What are you doing up so late?” he asked me, setting the pen down.

“I am here to ask permission to accompany Rory to Jericho.” I said.

“The recruiting team to Jericho left yesterday, and Rory sure as hell wasn't part of it. What is he up to?”

“It's his brother. Rory made him a promise he'd go back for him when the kid turned 17. He's going to die if he goes on that trek alone. Please, sir. You have to let me.”

Stoney removed his reading glasses and scrunched up his face, rubbing his tired eyes. For the first time in a long time, Stoney looked old and worn. This pained me to see, as he had been a father to me since I joined up with the Renegades. We shared a bond over my father and his passing. He held his glasses in one hand and looked at me with grey eyes. “Permission granted.” he said quietly.

I nearly jumped out of my skin once I heard those words. “Thank you sir!”

“If you don't come back with the recruiters, I'm sending every last Renegade on this damned planet after you.” he said. “Thats not a threat, it's a promise.”

I nodded once, trying to conceal my blushing face and exited the tent. On my way back to the center of camp, I stopped by my own little tent. I saw the sleeping figure of Jennette there on our double cot. She was the one who had insisted I go look for Rory. I grabbed some clothes and stuffed them in a little bag. Leaving her a note and a kiss on the forehead, I left. I found Rory raiding the cellar for canned goods. I saw with amusement that the guy had forgotten a can opener. That wasn't like him at all, and seeing Mr. Precision mess up every now and then always put a smile on my face. Knowing we would need it later, I grabbed one along with a few cans of Chef Boyardee ravioli.

Rory barely acknowledged my presence as we exited camp and started our journey. He only stared ahead, his face like a statue's. I decided not to dwell on this strange change in Rory and turn my attention to what I was leaving behind. My position as second-in-command would be filled by Leslie while I was gone. Leslie was an older woman who I'm pretty sure hated me. I pushed her out of her spot when I was first recruited, so she had good reason. Jennette will miss me, I thought as I nearly tripped over a tree root, She'll understand why I left, she encouraged me to go get Rory in the first place. I loved her dearly, and knew I would miss her while I was gone.

I let my thoughts travel on and followed Rory through the forest. He knew it better than anyone, having explored it very thoroughly in the times he was here at the base. I wasn't very well traveled, having never left the base. He'd been to over seven different camps in the five years since joining the Renegades and Cari had been to four. Since I'd only ever lived at the base, whenever I went on an expedition, someone else would always have to lead and that always made me uncomfortable.

The sun rose eventually and I suggested we rest a bit, since Rory had gotten no sleep at all and I was hungry. Rory complied with a sigh, his anger and emotionlessness turned into defeat and depression. He rummaged through his bag and pulled out a can of vegetable soup.

“F***.” he said quietly. “I forgot a can opener.”

I grinned and pulled the can opener out of my pocket and handed it to him. He looked at it like it was some kind of alien object and burst out laughing. I couldn't contain myself any longer either, I was lying on the forest floor howling like an animal.

[volture]

((small chapter today...))

8 - Rory

Joe was all I thought about for days. The same questions ran through my mind over and over again: was he okay? Will he remember me? Will he even want to come with us? Dan didn't leave me to my thoughts much after that first day, knowing that it was a bit dangerous to let me into my own head. I tended to overthink things to the worst possible outcome, and that always gave me great anxiety. I had an attack like that on the first night we were out in the forest, letting my thoughts get to my head, ironically.
It was good to catch up with him, though. We rarely spent any time together anymore. We talked mostly about girls and the missions we'd been on, which was fine.

Jericho was about a six day journey on foot, depending on how fast you walked, how many people you had in your group and how little sleep you got. We were almost a day and a half ahead of schedule, as we barely slept and the two of us were fast walkers. We would have to follow the line of the fence that separated the city the Law headquarters was stationed in until we came to the highway, which was nearly in sight. The highway would then take us two days to Jericho. The highway was the most dangerous part of the journey. The Law knew it was recruiting season, so they had officer camps at every mile along all the highways to every city. We'd lost four recruiting teams to officer camps along the highways the previous year. We were better prepared this year, but still very wary.

All of a sudden, Dan shoved me to the ground and put a furious finger to his lips, then pointed the same finger to the edge of the forest. A small band of officers were stationed where the edge of the forest met the highway. An older officer with a twitchy mustache was looking in our general direction. Seeing nothing, he turned back to his comrades.

“Crap.” Dan whispered.

“Lets take the alternate route, it's a bit quicker in fact. Just a little easier to get lost.” I replied.

“Less talking, more escaping.” Dan said with a grim look on his face.

We army crawled through the forest for about twenty minutes until Dan felt it was safe to stand up and move on foot. We rushed through the forest, being as quiet as we possibly could. It was tough, as this was one of the thickest parts of the forest. The underbrush was dead and crunching, making it very difficult to step without making a huge racket. Our clothes and weapons strapped to our backs were always getting caught in one branch or another. More than a few times, we had to go back a few feet to retrieve one of Dan's arrows. At one point, we had to walk through a huge thorn patch, bloodying our shins and ankles against the sharp brambles and thoroughly discouraging us from further treks into this part of the forest.

Eventually we came to the edge of the forest and looked carefully around for any officers before moving an inch further. We had traveled about half a mile from the Law camp, and we were heavily concealed by dense, dry bushes that grow near the highways in this area. We could see them, but they couldn't see us. We continued on, using the highway bushes to our advantages. This was going to be a long night.