FREE SAMPLE (Ch.1)

Since when was it legal to kill a student because they refused to get on the bus?

I stood with my little sister on the front step and watched the commander herd the neighbors’ kids onto the bus at gunpoint. Government schooling had been mandatory since my father was in middle school, but it never used to be this dramatic. I remembered getting pulled out of class once or twice in high school; whenever the curriculum got particularly heinous, my father made me play hooky as a form of protest. We’d gotten fined and had derogatory marks put on our files, and I think Dad spent a night in jail once, but I’d never worried that I might get shot.

Today, I wondered if our neighbors were about to lose another child—if only because Commander Ambrose had no concept of gun safety. He kept his fat finger on the trigger as he bullied the family next door. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d shot someone by accident.

I winced at the memory and turned away. Now I knew why my parents had risked imprisonment to homeschool my little sister. Up until a few years ago, they had skirted the law, using Dad’s multiple PhDs and Mom’s special education degree to convince the government they were private tutoring.

Of course, the government closed that loophole when they rounded up the unassimilated and put them in camps.

I scanned the row of tiny concrete homes and wondered when it had gotten this bad. My family had been sentenced to Street 17 Containment Camp three years ago for refusing to sign the file and assimilate into the United. I was in college at the time, and there were already so many regulations on campus that turning it into a prison had been a short trip. They’d put a tracking chip in my arm and a lock on my dorm room door and called it good.

I hadn’t spent much time in the containment camp—only coming “home” on school breaks—but it didn’t used to be this inhumane. It was a prison, sure, but when the camps were first opened, community backlash put the place under constant scrutiny. There were enough advocacy groups and regulations to keep unstable people like Ambrose in check.

But eventually, the outside world forgot about us, and those safeguards were taken away. Now Ambrose could satisfy his addiction to power by tormenting middle schoolers with a loaded weapon, and he couldn’t even be prosecuted for it.

It made me sick to think that, starting today, my little sister would have to deal with him alone.

She found my hand. “When are you coming back?” she said, even though she’d asked me the same question at breakfast, and the night before. No doubt she was hoping for a different answer.

I wished I had a different answer to give her. I had been summoned to Mars on scientific business; my transit left this afternoon. Under any other circumstances, I would have been thrilled. Going to Mars was a dream come true, and working for Dr. Nic, a prestigious scientist whose awards spoke for themselves, was a privilege. When I first got the notice, I’d shouted so loud that my lab partner dropped a beaker full of chemicals and almost burned herself.

And then I’d learned that my father would also be away on business.

He was currently stationed in China, working on some hippie smog reduction experiment so the government could check their “environmentally conscious” box for the year. He’d be there until the project was complete, which could be months. Until they released him, my teenaged sister would be coming home to an empty house surrounded by a concrete wall with a sniper tower.

I squeezed her hand. “My contract is for three months. If we complete the project, they’ll send me home then,” I said with an optimism I knew was unfounded. Science had no regard for deadlines.

She just nodded. “Will you call?”

“Every day.” If Ambrose will let the call through. “Unless I pull some all-nighters so I can get done faster. If I only sleep for four hours a night, I’ll finish the project in half the time.”

She squinted up at me. “That doesn’t sound healthy.”

I winked. “It worked in college.”

She grinned and started to reply—but Ambrose interrupted.

“Philadelphia!” he screeched as if he’d just caught her committing a crime.

She flinched and washed white.

He planted his foot on our bottom step. His gun was mercifully holstered. “Why are you still standing there? Didn’t you hear me call your name?”

If he had, I hadn’t heard him, but that fact was irrelevant to Ambrose. “Bus, now, or I’ll count you tardy,” he ordered, leering so close I could see the spittle on his lips.

“Y-yessir,” Philadelphia stuttered. She let go of my hand and grabbed her backpack.

I gripped her shoulder and held her back. “Was that necessary?” I snarled at Ambrose. “Being late to school isn’t a crime.”

“Actually, it is,” Philadelphia mumbled.

Ambrose snorted. “Don’t you have your own business to attend to, Ephesus? I heard you get to go on a special trip. They really shouldn’t let people like you go to Mars—but I signed the waiver. You’re welcome.”

I gritted my teeth.

He surveyed me, eyes tracking up and down as if searching for the crack in my armor. “If you’re worried about your little sister,” he sneered, savoring every word, “I’ll make sure she gets home safely.”

I tightened my grip on Philadelphia’s shoulder.

He noticed. “Do you have an objection, Mr. Smyrna?”

I did. I glared at him, and for a brief moment, I contemplated punching him. I considered knocking him down and taking his gun. I thought about grabbing my sister’s hand and making a break for it—anything to get us out of this place.

I jumped when Philadelphia’s icy fingers brushed mine. She patted my hand and offered a smile. “It’s okay,” she said in a voice intended to be brave. “Daddy told me not to cause trouble.”

The objections leapt to my tongue—but then I remembered why. Why my father hadn’t complained about his assignment even though he’d be gone for months. Why he sent my sister to school even though it went against everything we believed. Why he let the commander have his way even though Ambrose was insane, wicked, and cruel.

Our mother had caused trouble once, and the commander had offered no mercy.

It’s not worth it, my father would have said.

I let go of Philadelphia’s shoulder.

She shrugged on her backpack and scampered down the steps, eyes on the sidewalk. It was only after she reached the bus that I realized we hadn’t said goodbye.

“Philli, wait!” I shouted, lunging forward.

She paused on the step and glanced back. The commander reached for his holster.

I ignored him, instead finding my sister’s gaze. “I’ll be back in three months,” I declared with all the strength and conviction I knew she needed.

She nodded, but the look in her eyes told me she didn’t believe me.

I forced a smile. “I promise.”