Renegade Read online

  Renegade

  Olivia Tillotson

  To my family, who have always supported me in every wild pursuit.

  I love you, always.

  Chapter One

  I let my thoughts wander back to the day Jack came home. The face I knew so well somehow unfamiliar as he stepped off the train onto the platform, backpack flung over his shoulder. He didn’t smile when I ran to him, didn’t hold me when I wrapped my arms around him. Sarah had told me he just needed time to adjust, that he’d be back to normal by the time we all visited at her house today, but he wasn’t. I guess a month wasn’t enough time. Now here we are on that same platform again, me and a brother I used to know.

  I shift my feet, anxious to get back to my apartment so I can escape the people that surround me and forget the awkward family dinner we all just suffered through. Luckily, Jack’s stop is before mine so I’ll have some time to myself to process everything. When did I start being excited for him to leave? Disappointment creeps up as a knot in my throat, and I bite down on my bottom lip to keep it from trembling. I used to be afraid of him dying on the battlefield, but now I know better. I shouldn’t have been praying for him to come home, I should have been praying for him to come home himself. I guess people don’t have to die for you to lose them. I never thought I’d have to mourn someone still standing in front of me, but here we are.

  I blink back tears so the other people standing in the line for the train don’t see. Embarrassed, I stare down at my gray scrubs and shoes, worn from the years I’ve spent in training at the hospital, debating whether I can risk a glance back at my brother. My curiosity gets the best of me, and I allow myself a quick look over my shoulder at Jack, really studying him for the first time since we left Sarah’s house. We didn’t speak during the walk down to the train. He stands a few people behind me in line to board the train. While I recognize his face, there is something different about him. Something wrong. I can see anger in him that wasn’t there before. He clutches his identification papers tight, his knuckles are white and his forearm strained.

  I look down at the documents in my own hands, studying the black letters that form my name dancing across the crisp white paper beneath my picture. Anne Hill. I let my mind wander as my fingers trace my small silhouette in the photo.

  “Next.” The boarding officer’s voice snaps me back into reality. I quickly walk to the front of the line, scolding myself for not paying better attention.

  I make sure to keep my head down as I hand the boarding officer my papers, waiting as he scans the pages before waving me up onto the train through the entrance to the seating car.

  “Next.”

  I hurry down the aisle, past several rows of metal benches separated by small metal armrests, to my seat, shuffling my papers back into order as I ignore the usual voice that comes onto the speakers while the passengers board. The president’s voice. “And remember,” he says, “stand by the people who stand for you.”

  I sink down into my usual spot, waiting for Jack to sit beside me. But he doesn’t. I keep my eyes toward my shoes, waiting patiently to hear the thud of Jack’s body hitting the seat next to me. I keep counting the minutes but boarding never takes this long. I can’t help but chance a look over the seat in front of me toward the train door. Jack is the only one left in line, the boarding officer talking to him. I strain my ears, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. I slowly rise from my seat and walk back toward Jack to lean out the door of the train close enough that he can hear me. “Jack, you need to give him your papers,” I whisper. Jack just shakes his head, keeping his jaw clenched tight, his eyes trained forward.

  “I will remind you that all citizens are required to provide any information requested of them by a government official,” the boarding officer says. “Citizens are also required to carry their identification papers with them at all times. If you do not show me your papers now, I will be forced to arrest you and report your infractions, which will result in immediate consequences.” Jack just keeps his eyes trained forward, unfazed by the officer’s threats.

  “Jack, please, just give him your papers,” I whisper again, shifting my feet. If he hears me, he doesn’t show it. He remains standing without so much as a glance down at me.

  “Anne, get off the train,” he says. I swallow hard, my fingers shaking as I twist the hem of my shirt. I glance instinctively at the boarding officer, his face threatening, jaw square and tight as he glares at me, daring me to step down onto the platform. “Anne, this doesn’t feel right.” Jack’s voice is higher than usual, and it makes me break eye contact with the officer. He’s afraid. I look back and forth between my brother and the officer, one’s eyes narrow and threatening, the other’s wild and desperate.

  “Come on Jack, just get on the train, you’re scaring me.” My voice comes out soft, barely a whisper as the words make their way through my trembling lips.

  The officer leans in close to Jack and pulls his uniform coat back, showing Jack something inside. I strain my eyes to see, but I am too far away to make out the object from the dark fabric of the officer’s coat that surrounds it. “If you refuse to obey the rules, I will hurt you,” he whispers, slowly reaching his other hand inside his uniform, “and I will hurt her.” He motions toward me with his head while holding his eye contact with Jack. I look up at Jack, and for the first time since he came home, I see my brother. His eyes are wide with life, but he is still afraid. Not for himself, but for me. I watch, holding my breath, as Jack slowly lifts his hand, surrendering his identification papers.

  The man smiles, quickly dropping his uniform jacket again, concealing whatever was inside. He scans Jack’s papers, his eyes landing on the large black letters stamped across his picture. “Dishonorable discharge, huh?” he jeers. “They should have just killed you, you coward.” The officer crumples Jack’s papers into a ball and throws them onto the floor, pressing a black footprint onto the little wad as he steps into the train and walks back to the back of the car. “Pick those up; littering is strictly prohibited,” the man calls behind him, causing a laugh to rumble from the other officers in the back of the train.

  I quickly fall to my knees, scrambling to pick up the mud-covered papers and flatten them back out, the ink smearing around on the creased pages where the dirty water pooling just outside the gate has swirled over the letters. Jack gets down as well, his eyes lock with mine as he gently places a hand on top of my own, pulling me back up onto my feet. He turns away from me again, jaw clenched tight. “Why don’t you just come back here and pick it up yourself, you son of a bitch?” he calls back, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  The officer stops in his tracks and turns around, rushing back toward us. I pick up the muddy wad and stand up quickly, clutching the dirty papers to my chest, and scurry out of the way, back inside the gate to the seating car. He grabs Jack, pulling his face in toward his own by the collar of his shirt, his fists shaking around the balled-up fabric. I can hear him breathing loudly from where I am, his face contorted in anger. I can feel myself start to shake. Just breathe. This is going to be okay. Jack is smart; he knows the best thing to do when you break a rule is to just take the officer’s punishment. He should have kept the rules—the rules keep us safe. And because Jack didn’t follow the rules, now he is not safe. Neither of us is. But Jack doesn’t look scared. He stares straight into the officer’s eyes, challenging him.

  “Bow your head,” the officer commands, his voice low and threatening. But Jack doesn’t budge; he holds the man’s gaze. “I said bow your head!” the officer screams, striking Jack hard across his face with his palm. I drop the papers I’ve been clutching, bringing my hands to my mouth to stop the sob from escaping as the smack echoes through the seating car. Jack recovers quickly, slowly bringing
his face back up, his cheek fiery red, to stare into the eyes of the man whose handprint now burns red on his cheek.

  The officer brings his hand up again, ready to strike him a second time, but before he can, Jack spits into the officer’s face, stopping his attack. Tears stream down my face, and I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek to keep my sobs contained. There is no coming back from this. It doesn’t take long before the man regains his composure and screams back to the other officers. “Arrest him. Now!” the man orders. Two more officers spring to his side, pulling out handcuffs and long metal clubs. One reaches him, striking Jack on the side of his head with his club, sending Jack staggering back.

  “No! You’ll kill him!” I scream, struggling to breathe. Jack regains his balance, swinging at another officer and striking him, leaving blood dripping from his eyebrow down onto his lips and teeth as he snarls at my brother. I crumple to the floor, my body shaking as I bury my sobs in my knees. Jack hit an officer. He has just made the biggest, and last, mistake of his life. And now we are both going to die. “He should have followed the rules. Rules keep us safe,” I mumble to myself, choking on tears.

  More officers come running over, armed with clubs and handcuffs. I watch, terrified and sobbing, as they beat my brother. I watch through swollen eyes, my vision blurry, as he staggers back as he is hit over the head again and again until blood pours out over his face. I scream out as I watch him fall to his knees, still holding his head up, still refusing to bow it to the officers. I watch as a heavy boot kicks hard into his stomach, sending him doubling over onto the ground. I watch as they continue to beat him while he lies there, helpless, until he is unconscious.

  “Jack!” I scream, pulling my shaking body forward across the floor toward him.

  The boarding guard Jack had spit on turns to me. “Kill them both,” he snarls, looking down at me in disgust.

  “No, no, please!” I beg, stumbling away from the officer walking towards me, reaching inside his uniform jacket. He pulls out a small, black metal object. A gun. My eyes go wide, and I pull myself backward with my arms, scrambling to get away from the officer. “No, no!” I scream, climbing up onto all fours to crawl away as he moves toward me even faster, a grin spreading across his face.

  I turn toward the other passengers on the train all around me. “Please, somebody help me! Please!” I scream, tears streaming down my red, swollen face. A voice comes on over the speakers in the seating car, and I feel myself holding my breath. This is it. I know this voice. This is safe. This is help.

  “All passengers, at this time, are required to keep their eyes forward. This disruption will be ending shortly.” I watch every face turn away from me, parents covering their children’s ears, everyone just sitting there, patiently waiting for me to die.

  “No!” I scream. “No, please! Somebody help me! Please!” Nobody moves. I lunge at a man sitting right in front of me. “Please! Help me!” I scream, clawing at his leg. “Please!” The man just sits there, his eyes locked in front of him, his face turned away. I open my mouth to scream again, but a strong hand wraps around my leg, ripping me backward. I land hard on my chin, and blood starts to fill my mouth as I’m dragged backward, my hands clawing at the slippery metal floor of the train. My fingers finally catch the bottom of a woman’s seat, and I’m able to flip myself over.

  I look up at the officer standing over me, blood flowing from the corners of my mouth down my neck, mixing with my tears as I scream. He lifts a club high above his head, ready to bring it down cracking on my skull. I slam down onto my back, bringing my hands up to shield my fac, trying to protect myself from his blow. But his club doesn’t have time to reach me before my body is thrown across the train, slamming into one of the metal seats and then falling down heavy onto the hard floor.

  Chapter Two

  As I prop myself up, looking around, I can see the officers who were just about to kill us strewn across the floor, as well as dozens of passengers. There are people everywhere, some dragging themselves up from the floor, some asking what is going on, some lying unconscious from being thrown against metal seats and railing.

  Panic spreads through me as the last five minutes flash through my mind again—the officers beating Jack, the gun, the warm, metallic taste of blood in my mouth, my arms flying up around my head, my body flying through the air. What just happened?

  Jack’s body is still lying on the ground a few feet in front of me, bloodied and bruised but handcuff-free. I slowly stand up and walk over to him, helping him up. I quickly scan his arms and legs, looking for any serious injuries. He is hurt pretty bad from the beating he took, but he will be alright. He looks up at me and I can see a panic in his eyes I have never seen there before, not even as the officers were beating him. His face is white and full of only one expression—fear.

  “Anne, we need to get out of here. Now.” I don’t understand—we are not supposed to get off the train unless we are told to over the speaker.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm and return to your seats in an orderly fashion,” it says. Without thinking, I start to turn back to my seat, instinctively following instructions.

  Jack reaches out and grabs my arm hard, stopping me in my tracks, and turns me around so my face is inches away from his. I look down at his hand gripping around my bicep painfully, his nails digging into my skin. “Jack, you’re scaring me,” I whisper, watching as one of the officers starts to roll over, regaining consciousness. I turn back to Jack, I can tell that he is afraid.

  “Anne, now!” he yells, his voice filled with urgency.

  A voice blasts through the speakers of the train above my head. “I repeat, all passengers at this time are required to return to their seats in a calm and orderly fashion for their own safety.” I can’t help but hesitate, do I trust him more than I trust the rules? I don’t have time to answer that question before I am torn from his grip and thrown against the wall of the train, bashing my head against a metal rail and knocking me unconscious.

  ✽✽✽

  Sarah looks down at me in the darkness, her hand in mine. She holds a finger up against her lips, warning me to keep quiet. But I can’t hold it in anymore, and I erupt into giggles. She can’t keep a straight face either, her eyes bright as she watches me laugh. Her face splits into a dimply smile, revealing her missing front tooth. Our toes wiggle and our feet stick out from where we hide behind the curtains of our mother’s bedroom.

  “I found you!” Jack yells, pulling back the curtains. As light pours onto my face around Jack’s skinny silhouette, I screech out playfully, and my tiny bare feet patter across the wooden floor past him.

  “Run!” I yell back to Sarah between giggles.

  She looks at Jack, communicating without words, saying something I don’t understand before they both turn back to me. “Uh oh, Anne, I’m on Jack’s team now,” she calls, her eyes shining.

  They both come running toward me, easily outpacing me. They are older, faster. Suddenly I’m scooped up, and before I know it, I’m looking up at Sarah’s toothy smile again, Jack tickling me until I’m yelling at him to stop between giggles.

  “Come downstairs for dinner, you three!” My mother sounds tired, but I barely notice.

  “Coming, Mom!” Jack yells. He wraps his hands around my ankles, lifting me upside down as I shriek out in excitement. The tips of my brown hair just brush against the wooden floorboards next to where Sarah still sits. “I love you, Anne,” she says, kissing my soft cheek, “always.”

  ✽✽✽

  I moan as I roll over onto my side, shooting pain tearing at my head. I lift my head, peering up from where I lie on the floor at the seating car around me. Blinking several times, I try to clear my vision—still blurry. My eyes slowly move around the train, straining to make sense of the scene before me. Soft orange light floats around in front of me.

  The more I come to, the more confused I am. I can’t hear anything but a deafening ringing that seems like it’s coming from the c
enter of my forehead. I wince as I reach my hand up to one of my ears, and my fingers come back dripping with blood.

  As my eyes start to adjust, the orange light becomes more focused and I realize that what I’m seeing are flames. Everything around me is on fire. An entire side of the train is missing, huge chunks of metal ripped from the steel structure. Bodies that were thrown dozens of feet out of the hole litter the ground outside the train, limbs twisted and contorted in unnatural directions.

  Inside the train, people scramble, searching for any way out they can find, pushing and shoving each other to escape the inferno that the train they had all just been sitting in moments earlier has become. As my eyes focus more, I realize that the floating orange lights are people running, their bodies on fire, their screams slowly getting louder as my hearing returns. I watch some burn and fall to their knees, trying to cover their faces from the flames as their flesh burns and falls from their bones. I watch them slowly disintegrate, leaving almost nothing where a person had just stood. There is no escape for them.

  I have to get out of here. I have to get out. I slowly force myself up onto my hands and knees, but my body refuses to go any further. I sit there on all fours and struggle to lift my head to look for a way out. In front of me, all I can focus on are the children I see standing alone, crying, looking for their dead parents who litter the floor. A little boy runs past me, screaming his mother’s name as he falls to the ground beside her body, sobbing into her hair and begging her not to go, not to leave him. I force myself to look back down at my shaking hands beneath me. I know he won’t leave her. He is going to die there next to her. I can’t help him.

  I find myself searching the faces of the dead surrounding me. Where is Jack? I wince as I strain to lift my head again, scanning the wreckage as I search for him, but he is nowhere to be seen. The room around me spins, and I collapse again, vomiting from the smell of burning flesh. I grit my teeth and slowly peel myself from the ground, trying to get to my feet. As I try to stand, pain crackles up through my left leg, causing me to fall again. I manage to flip myself over and struggle to roll up my blood-soaked pant leg, not sure if the blood is mine or someone else’s, to find the skin underneath shredded.