When the Chips Are Down (4 page)

“Hey!  Stop!  Who are you
?” the voice shouted. 

“Oh, hell no
!” Brooklyn cried dropping the container and spilling the water when the man and the rifle he was holding came into view.

 

“Lars, it’s me, man,” Trent yelled. 

“Who are you?” the man repeated.

He picked up his pace while keeping his rifle cocked and aimed. 

“It’s Trent!” Trent shouted. 

“Trent Barnes?”

“Yes!” Trent replied. 

The man lowered his rifle.

“I’m sorry, brother.  I couldn’t see you from here,” Lars called.  He threw his rifle over his shoulder and ran to greet Trent. 

“It’s good to see you.  Who’s the pretty lady?” Lars asked, eyeing Brooklyn.

“This is Brooklyn
. She recently awoke from a two year coma,” Trent said.

 

“Wow! What a storm to wake up to, sister!” Lars exclaimed. 

Brooklyn nodded, still shaken from having a rifle pointed in her direction.

“Our lake has run dry,” Trent said. 

“Well, take what you need.  My land is your land, brother,”
Lars proclaimed.  He was wearing camouflage shorts and a red bandana tied around his head. 

 

His chiseled face and shaggy black hair looked dirty.  A sash of spare bullets hung around his muscular torso.  Brooklyn guessed that he was part of a renegade group.  It was always people like him who waited for Armageddon.  They were the most extreme and heavily armed civilians…and the mostly likely to survive any major disaster.

 

“So what have you been up to?” Trent asked, stooping down to fill the containers.

“Watching
the world go to hell,” Lars replied, helping him, “They’re limiting public knowledge now by burning certain books.” 

“Burning books!” Brooklyn exclaimed. 

“You bet, sister.  I witnessed a bonfire at the Helena library.  They were supposed to be burning leaves, but I climbed over their back fence and stole ten crates full of books and periodicals before they could pitch them into the fire,” Lars divulged.

 

“That’s crazy,” Brooklyn said, picking up the container she had dropped. 

“That’s our Big Brother
government body looking over our shoulders.  Power and knowledge are concentrated in the hands of few.  They lie, deceive, corrupt, and threaten, and
we’re
the criminals, all of us who won’t wear their barcode.  They called us ‘bottom feeders’ in a press conference and said that anyone who isn’t micro chipped isn’t a true American citizen and should be forgotten about.  They’ve destroyed our humanity.  Museums, art galleries, and concert halls are closing their doors now,” Lars said, helping Trent load the containers into the truck. 

 

“Why are they all closing?” Brooklyn wanted to know.

“Big Brother has mutated
the people with that microchip.  Their individuality and self expressionism are gone.  They’re too brainwashed to care about anything anymore.  Even charities are starting to die off.  The St. John’s Cancer Center, one of the biggest charity organizations in the country, might have to close its doors due to lack of funding.  Birth rates are at an all time low.  The general population is a bunch of dead men walking, no opinions and no feelings. Can you believe this is supposed to be the land of the free?!” Lars scoffed.

 

Brooklyn stared at Lars speechless.  She couldn’t imagine life without music, books, or art and she didn’t want to.  Writing poetry had been her way of dealing with things she didn’t want to talk about ever since she could remember. 

 

“We’d better go before it gets dark,” Trent said. 

“Right, there’s all kinds of freaks
around here at night,” Lars replied. 

Brooklyn tried to imagine anyone creepier than Lars lurking around rural Montana at night, but was not able to do so. 

“Take care, brother. Be safe,” Lars said.

“You too,”
Trent waved.

 

“I can’t believe libraries are burning books now.  Chips aren’t enough; they want to control knowledge and education as well,” Brooklyn mused on the way home. 

“Consider the source, though.  You should probably take anything Lars says with a grain of salt.  He’s beyond weird.  He lives with a group of people in an old bomb shelter.  They get by stealing and hunting animals.  I think he’s been living down there too long.  He wasn’t as strange when I first met him,” Trent said. 

“Still, book burning is a serious statement,” Brooklyn said.

 

Zane was anxious and excited all week. He had been anticipating Ben and Brian’s arrival for a long time now. He had managed to get a bed for Brooklyn so she could move out of Ben and Brian’s room and into the smallest and coldest room in the house, which she was not thrilled about. A party was being planned, and Zane wanted it to be the best celebration anyone had had on the farm. He had planned everything right down to the last detail. Brooklyn, Trent, and Caleb found his perfectionism annoying and his joy completely understandable.

 

“Don’t forget to be up bright and early tomorrow,” Zane said, hanging up the last of the streamers,” I’ll be leaving to get Ben and Brian and I should be back around six and there’s plenty to do before we get home.”

“Yeah
, yeah, I know,” Brooklyn said, grumpily.

 

She had been cooking, cleaning, and decorating for Ben and Brian’s arrival all day, and she was exhausted and tired of hearing Zane talk about it. Caleb and Trent had already given up and gone to sleep.

“Hey
, Brook?” Zane called when Brooklyn had reached the top of the stairs. She turned her head to face him, “Thanks.”

She smiled
, nodded, and went to get ready for bed.

 

“No, no, NOOOOOO!”
thud.

The sound awoke Brooklyn with a start.
What’s going on?!
she thought, groggily. A man was yelling, cursing, and it sounded like he was throwing things downstairs. She was terrified and confused. 
Someone must have broken in.  What do they want?!
she thought. The yelling continued.

 

Brooklyn threw off the covers, tiptoed out of bed, and slowly pushed open her door. She was relieved to see Trent at the top of the stairs.

“Trent, what’s happening?” she whispered.

“Shhh,” Trent hissed holding up his hand. He listened for a moment. “It’s Zane,” he said and hurried down the stairs with Brooklyn following behind him.

 

Zane was in the kitchen yelling in a voice Brooklyn did not recognize. “What the hell is going on, man?” Caleb grumbled, staggering into the room.

“I just got off the phone with Ben an
d Brian and they’ve joined the freaking Army,” Zane said, angrily.

“What?!” Trent and Brooklyn cried in perfect unison.

 

“This was never the plan. They were supposed to be
here
today. Who joins the army on their 18
th
birthday?! They got them. Those soulless government pricks got your cousins and now my brothers,” Zane shouted.

 

“They must have gotten the stupid chip implanted in their arms and now they’re mind warped like everyone else. I told them not to let anybody near their arms with those things. They never wanted to join the Army. They were coming here today. I was on my way to get them,” Zane choked.

 

“They have gone too far! The government and its yes men have gone too far this time! It’s one thing that they force us to live on farms, but they are not sending my brothers off to war to a third world hellhole to get shot at,” Zane shouted.  He marched out of the kitchen and down the basement stairs, stomping all the way.

“What i
s he planning to do?” Brooklyn asked, concerned.

 

The three exchanged glances and followed after him. Zane was seated in front of his computer busily typing.

“What are you doing?” Trent asked.

“I’m going to get my brothers here where they belong,” Zane replied.

“How are you going to do that?” Brooklyn
wanted to know.

“I’m going to get into the government’s mainframe system and turn the microchips off.
  I can create a virus that will destroy their system. When the chips are deactivated, my brothers will come to their senses again and come home,” Zane explained.

 

“Zane, you can’t do that! That’s never going to work.” Caleb cried.

“What do you expect me to do, Caleb? Nothing? Am I just supposed to sit back and let my brothers get taken from me? They’re the
only family I’ve got!” Zane yelled, fiercely pointing at himself.

 

“Calm down. Nobody’s saying you should do nothing. All we’re saying is that you need a better plan. Okay, so you’re going to hack into the government’s mainframe and shut the chips off. What happens next?”  Trent reasoned.

“My bro
thers will come home,” Zane responded.

“It’ll only be a matter of time before the governmen
t turns them back on again, and they’ll be able to trace Ben and Brian right to our doorstep,” Trent said.

 

“Yes and they’ll be considered AWOL from the military, so they’ll definitely come after them and arrest us all,” Caleb interjected.

“Look dude, you’re upset and understandably so, but for God’s sake, don’t act on anything yet, not until we figure out an intelligent w
ay to go about this,” Trent pleaded.

 

Zane stopped typing and sat back in his chair.  He hated being wrong, but he knew he was. He could think of nothing else but Ben and Brian.  He realized just how stupid he had been for thinking he could protect his brothers from afar and how wrong he was for telling Brooklyn to forget about her own family and look out for herself. Trent, Brooklyn, and Caleb sat down on the old basement couch. They couldn’t possibly tell Zane that they had no idea what to do.

 

                                        
 
Chapter 3

 

Brooklyn’s dreams were tormented as she writhed and kicked off the covers in her sleep.  Images of microchips, mind control, and burning books ran through her mind like a never ending dark reel. She dreamed of evil librarians with fangs and dark eyes pitching books into bonfires while laughing demonically.  The dream jolted her into consciousness as she sat straight up in her bed, panting and sweating.  As her mind replayed the dream, she had an idea. 

 

“Of course!  Why didn’t I think of that before!” she exclaimed.  She jumped out of bed and threw on her clothes and shoes.  She ran down the stairs and grabbed the keys to the truck and Caleb’s cell phone from the end table by the staircase.  She started the truck and peeled off down the dirt road.  The sun was starting to rise and no one was awake yet. 

 

When Brooklyn reached her destination, she ran up the hill toward the lake as fast as she could.  “Lars…..Lars, are you here?” she called   She was not sure where he lived exactly, so she started off towards the woods, still calling his name.  She was greeted by a tall, muscular black man and a small Asian woman, both yielding guns.  “State your name, trespasser,” the man barked. 

 

“Where is Lars?” Brooklyn shouted, “I’m here to see Lars.  Put the gun down!” 

“Are you a spy?” the woman demanded. 

“What are you talking about?” Brooklyn said. 

“Answer the question and what do you want with Lars,” the man snapped. 

 

The guns did not startle her as they did before.  She was mostly becoming annoyed and impatient.  She shouted for Lars
once again, only to have the man cock and aim his rifle at her face.  “I will shoot you if you do not tell me who you are,” he said.  It was then that she felt frightened.  To her relief, Lars emerged from the woods. 

 

“Put down your weapons,” Lars yelled at them, “Brooklyn is not the enemy.”  The man and woman lowered their weapons as Lars came to greet her.  “I apologize for them, sister. Do you need more water?” Lars said kindly.  Brooklyn shook her head.  “What brings you here?” Lars inquired. 

“The books that you took from the library-where are they?” Brooklyn said.

 

Lars led Brooklyn through the woods and
to his bomb shelter dwelling.  “Do you want the books for any particular reason?” Lars asked as they walked down the dark, narrow stairs. 

“Well, I was thinking those books were
being burned for a reason.  There’s something that someone obviously doesn’t want us to know.  If I could just find some piece of information that would cast doubt on the safety of these microchips, then it just might be enough to convince someone in the White House to over turn the bill. I know it’s probably a long shot, but the bill was passed pretty recently, and the chips weren’t even tested first. There’s got to be some fault with them somewhere,” Brooklyn replied, straining her eyes to see inside Lars’s dimly lit home.

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