Forgotten

Chapter 28

            AFTER WE'VE BEEN DRIVING FOR TEN MINUTES OR SO, I feel another question bloom in my head, and it flies out of my mouth before I can think. "Why's the house called headquarters?"

            Tom chuckles. "It's the headquarters of the rebellion, Stella. Obviously it would be too dangerous to have a headquarters inside the Federation itself, so we decided to shack up in Canada."

            "The rebellion?" I'd nearly forgotten that there was a bigger plan, a plan to liberate the entire Federation, not just Hayley and me. "Is there...what exactly is it doing?"

            "Not much, as of now. There are many safe houses spread all across the southern border of Canada, bringing in the people that escape from the Federation across the border. That's our main focus right now, rescuing. Right now, we're headed for one of the biggest safe houses—that's why it's called headquarters. It's got more technology, more security, and more people than any other safe house. It's been utilized ever since the rebellion started, about fifteen years ago."

            "And in all that time, have you ever seen a case like Hayley's? Where they were threatening to Unlock a child, and the child ran away?"

            "Oh, yes," Tom says darkly. "But most of them were at least eleven or twelve—old enough to flee on their own. In fact, most kids are alone when they come to us. Groups are rare. You must have a lot of devotion for your...sister."

            "We're like family," I tell him. "In fact, we are family."

            "That's good," Tom says. "You'll need all the support you can get. Being a rebel isn't easy."

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            After driving on for twenty more minutes, I look out the windshield and see a city rising up ahead of us. I sit up in my seat, craning my neck to get a better look out the window. I've never seen anything so enormous or so beautiful. The sunlight glints off of what looks like tall glass buildings, bigger than anything I've encountered in my entire life. They stretch towards the sky, all different heights and shapes and sizes. We drive across a long bridge over a huge river, another sight that is new and different for me. I've never seen so much water before—a vast, winding body of blue streaming southward between the wide riverbanks. We pass over it, into the city, and immediately the buildings rise up around us and surround the car, leaving the river behind and out of sight.

            "Vancouver," Tom tells us, taking the car around a turn with a smooth veer of the steering wheel. "This is the city you've been looking for."

            In the city are people—so many people, dressed in all different colors and carrying all kinds of things. One man carries a brown briefcase in his hand as he walks down the sidewalks, a matching bowler hat atop his head. A woman hurries across the street wearing a pretty pink sundress with a fluffy white dog tucked under her arm. There are just so many people—adults, children, and teenagers alike, each unique and distinct in every way except for one.

            They are all free. They have all been free their entire lives. Not one of them has ever lived under the iron fist of the Federation. Not one of them has ever had a loved one threatened by something worse than death.

            We drive through the city, full of people blissfully unaware of their good fortune, of their perfect lives, until finally we pass the last skyscraper and head into a large residential area. We turn down street after street, each lined with houses painted in all different shades of neutral colors. Finally, Tom pulls up in front of a white two-story home with gray trim, which is neat and clean with a well-tended lawn. I lean forward to get a closer look. To my disappointment, it is unextraordinary in every way possible, and I find myself squinting up at it in dismay.