Outliers: 'Your Next Dystopian Addiction' (The Transient Series Book 2) Read online

  There was a small collective gasp of horror from the crowd, and the man at the microphone raised his hands to calm everyone.

  “We made a joint decision with our friends in the federal government to isolate these individuals for further study at the OBK labs, both to prevent them from carrying out their plans. And also so we could learn more about whether they would in fact die on their projected Date of Death if they were not allowed to carry out their plan. Our guess was yes, but we wanted to make sure they would pose no threat to public health, so we chose to go with isolated security.

  “However, last night an undisclosed number of these terrorists were able to escape custody and are now on the loose in the city. We do not know where they will go or if they will continue with their plan of attack. Right now we know only that they should be considered extremely dangerous. If you are contacted by one of these Tetrad members or if you suspect you know their location, we urge you to call your local law enforcement immediately. Please remember folks, this is a matter of national security.”

  The camera cut back to the news desk. Drew picked up the remote to lower the volume on the TV.

  “How can they say that?” Rae burst out. “How can they call us terrorists, and everyone just stands there and believes them? No one even questioned anything they said!”

  “Why would they?” Drew said grimly. “It makes perfect sense. Think about it: when was the last time a terrorist attack happened without some prior knowledge of the event? All they have to do is look at the DOD clusters and they can pick out emerging patterns from there. If they find a cluster of DODs attached to transients like you and me, of course they're going to assume a major event like a terrorist attack. And the public will believe it, because they believe in the cryptograph.”

  Rae fell silent. On the TV, the news anchor was showing pictures of Drew and Rae, and urging the public to heed OBK's plea for tips on their possible whereabouts. She was promising that later in the program they would have further interviews with Doctor Lakeb and Doctor Oberkampf, along with new insights into the possible targets of the “attack” the Tetrad planned to unleash.

  Drew finally clicked off the TV in disgust. “Enough.”

  They sat in silence for a long moment. Rae was trying to wrap her head around everything that was happening.

  Finally he jumped up from the sofa. “Well, we can't just sit here. We've got work to do.”

  “On what?” Rae asked sullenly, and Drew looked at her in surprise.

  “What do you mean, on what? We have to put together a broadcast, let the world know that OBK is making all of this up. We can make a telecast telling everyone all about what was really happening in the lab, the tests, the things the scientists there told us. We'll hack into a major network and broadcast it to everyone—maybe during the Super Bowl, or --”

  Rae tuned him out. After a moment Drew seemed to realize he was talking to himself.

  “Hey,” he said gently, crouching next to her. “You're still with me on this, right? You know what we have to do.”

  “Do we?” she said, looking at him. “What good will it do? Who will believe us? When the government calls you a terrorist on national TV, people don't tend to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

  Drew stared at her in surprise. She thought he looked a little hurt.

  “So what—you're just going to give up because of that press conference? We have to keep fighting Rae, keep telling people that OBK and their stupid cryptograph aren't for real. We have to convince people of the truth. If we give up now, then we're letting OBK win. They’ll be getting what they wanted when they shut us up in that lab to begin with—they'll be getting our silence!”

  Rae shook her head uncertainly. “I’m not giving up,” she said. “But I don’t know what we’re supposed to do. It’s a lot different now from just staging a protest and carrying a sign.”

  Drew took a deep breath. “Look, if there's something else...is it your family? Is that what you're worried about?”

  “No,” she said quickly, tucking her hair back behind her ears in a nervous gesture. “No,” she said again, as much to reassure herself as to assure Drew. “They would never believe that. They would know it was all a lie.”

  Wouldn’t they?

  Drew looked skeptical, and she rushed on, “I just can't help feeling like it's all pointless.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We're going to die, Drew,” she burst out angrily, “or did you forget? Our death date is just few weeks away. No matter how much we fight, what good does it do if we die anyway? What difference will it make?”

  “I don't believe we'll die, you know that,” Drew said quietly. He took her hand, surprising her, wrapping his fingers through hers. “I've never once believed in the accuracy of that test, and the Rae I know doesn't believe in it either. We are not going to die just because of a stupid made-up test from a company that thinks they can play God with people's lives. Okay?”

  She nodded uncertainly, and he squeezed her hand. “We have to make every day count. We have to convince people that OBK is lying to them. If we don't keep fighting, then who will?”

  She nodded again, and he sat on the couch next to her, pulling her into a hug. She'd forgotten how nice it felt to have his arms wrapped around her, and she sank into him, burying her face in his shoulder and breathing him in.

  Before, he smelled like sporty fresh soap and body spray; now those smells were gone, and he just smelled like the plain soap from the bathroom cabinet. She nestled her face into his sweater and willed time to stop, to just let them have this moment together.

  Unfortunately, time didn't stop, and after a moment Drew gently pushed her back, holding her upright by the shoulders. “We've got a lot of work to do, and not a lot of time. I need to know that you're with me. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she said, but in her stomach a knot of fear was slowly tightening.

  Four

  Drew was convinced that he could break into the airwaves long enough to play a short telecast denouncing OBK and celebrating their escape.

  He wanted to film a longer video to upload online, using a dummy e-mail address and a fake account. Running forward from that thought, he planned to film an additional announcement after their death date had passed to show the world that he and Rae were still alive and they had beaten the cryptograph.

  He was already planning all the things they might do to prove the video's authenticity, from showing newspapers with the day's date, to filming in a public location in front of a live event, so no one could dispute that they were actually alive on February fourteenth.

  Rae tried to show enthusiasm for Drew's efforts, but her will to keep going with his plans was slowly fading away. It was hard to be excited about scripting an announcement when she still secretly feared that the test might be right.

  Stop that, she chided herself, pushing that thought to the back of her brain, but it kept buzzing at her like a persistent housefly.

  She didn't dare say as much to Drew, of course. He spent his time monitoring the news online and the chatter in online forums for any more details of the escape, including official announcements or leaked information about the Tetrad members who had been held captive in the OBK labs.

  He shot a couple of short videos of himself and of Rae, announcing that they were alive, and describing what they had seen in the OBK labs, but he wasn't ready to upload anything yet. He thought the video footage needed editing.

  Rae helped him monitor news websites and chat rooms where people were discussing the possible upcoming terrorist attack.

  No one seemed to know anything new about the details of the escape, or if they did, they weren't talking. OBK still wouldn't confirm or deny reports guessing at the number of escaped terrorists, so they had no way of knowing whether the other members of the Tetrad were still at the lab.

  As the days passed Rae began to lose hope of seeing her friends again.

  We’re alone, she thought one night when sh
e couldn’t sleep. She lay on her side in her cot, hugging her knees to her chest and listening to Drew snore.

  It’s just the two of us now. Two against the world.

  After they had been in the basement for about a week, there was a cryptic knock at the door, almost like someone tapping out a code with their knuckles.

  Rae froze at the table where she was spreading peanut butter on bread. Drew slowly got up from the computer table and moved to open the door.

  Outside was only a wizened old man, probably more than eighty years old if Rae had to take a guess. He was neatly dressed in tweed pants, a neatly pressed shirt and a knit sweater vest, with a chunky knit cardigan. He wore a tweed cap over his balding head and carried a walking stick to help him navigate the stairs down into the basement.

  He made himself comfortable on the sofa under the stares of the two teens. “Well, well, there's no need to stare like that,” he chuckled. “Surely you knew whose shop was hiding this place? Or weren't you keen to know?”

  Drew recovered first. “You must be Mr. Feinstein,” he said, holding out a hand, and the old man shook it gingerly. “The same. And you would be...?”

  He hastened to make the introductions. “I'm Drew, and this is Rae.”

  “Aha. Are you the only two?”

  “Yes,” said Rae, cautiously coming to sit on a chair. “What do you know about us? And about what's going on?”

  The old man waved a hand as though this was unimportant information. “I know that I was contacted through a friend of a friend of a friend--” his eyes twinkled at Rae as he spoke-- “and I was told there were would be people needing a place to lie low for a while.”

  Rae and Drew exchanged glances. “How many others are there?” Drew asked cautiously. “I mean...I was told this was a safe place to go, but I didn't realize...”

  “That there were others like your Tetrad?” The old man chuckled at the looks on their faces. “It's okay. If I didn't guess before, I knew when I saw that you were the young people from the news. You're fighting back against OBK.”

  “We're not terrorists,” Rae said quickly but Mr. Feinstein shook his head.

  “Oh, no, I'm sure you're not. Any more than I'm a rich man. But OBK and the government have a way of making sure anyone who opposes them is cast in an unfavorable light, to make sure no one else takes them too seriously. For quite some time there's been a small group of us who have tried to help by hiding anyone who is running away from OBK—people who are trying to prove the cryptograph is flawed, or people who are trying to beat their test result. Things like that.”

  “And does anyone ever manage to do it? Beat their test result, I mean,” Rae said eagerly, a little too eagerly. The old pawn broker frowned. “I don't know. If anyone ever has, I've never heard of it. But that doesn't stop people from trying.”

  The pawn broker seemed in no hurry to leave. “I've closed up my shop for the day,” he explained. “It's a Sunday, in case you didn't know.”

  Rae had lost all track of the days. She knew only that their supply of food was starting to run low.

  Mr. Feinstein seemed to have some inkling of her thoughts, because he said apologetically, “I'm afraid we don't have the best set-up here. Never intended for anyone to stay more than a few days. But my wife will take your clothes upstairs to do the laundry—we have an apartment above the shop—and I'll leave groceries at the foot of the stairs for you. How long will you be here, do you think?”

  Drew and Rae exchanged glances. “About two more weeks,” said Drew carefully. “Maybe a little more.”

  “Ah.” The old man nodded perceptively. Rae thought that not much must escape him. “Your day of reckoning coming up soon?”

  Both nodded. “February thirteenth,” Rae said, focusing on the table. She didn't want to meet his eyes. “That's when we're supposed to die. COD Unknown.”

  Unknown and unnatural because no one should die this young… Or will it be because someone from OBK kills us to preserve their precious test?

  “Ah, well.” The old man rubbed his chin. “That's a shame. Especially for two youngsters like yourselves. Me, I've got another year to go - supposedly. My wife has about six months. Natural, both of us. I suppose in a way it's a comfort to me that she's supposed to go first; I won't have to worry about her lingering on alone after me.” He shook his head then, like a man coming out of a daydream. “But then, if the cryptograph is wrong...well, we still have some hope that someone will prove it's all a bunch of bunk and these OBK people won't be able to control everything the way they do. It's too late for us, of course; I turned 87 last August. Constant, for sure. But for you...” he paused. “You have your whole lives ahead of you. Lives that should be lived to the fullest, not curtailed because of a prediction on a test strip.”

  He looked back and forth between Drew and Rae. “What will you do if your results are wrong?”

  “We don't know,” admitted Rae, and Drew hastened to add, “Yet. We don't know yet. But we're working on it. We'll come up with a way to prove we've outlived our DOD prediction, and then we'll show the world that the test is just a way for OKB to control people. Once people see the truth, they'll join us.”

  Mr. Feinstein nodded. Rae wondered what he was thinking.

  Slowly he spoke. “I've seen a lot of things in my years, and I've seen a lot of people trying to change the world. It's never as easy as you hope it will be.”

  “No, it won’t be easy, but we're not going to give up,” Drew said stridently. Rae wished she felt as confident as he sounded.

  Mr. Feinstein looked around the cramped apartment, with the blocked windows and the bottles of water on the table. “And what will you do for the next two weeks?”

  “Prepare. Plan.” Drew was firm. “We're going to continue fighting against OBK, let them know they haven't silenced us. And when our death date passes, we'll be ready to take to the streets and begin our next round of attack.”

  “I must warn you,” cautioned Mr. Feinstein, “it's very dangerous in the streets right now. You mustn't go outside for any reason. It would be very risky both for you and for us.”

  “Of course,” replied Drew, but Rae said apologetically, “We're putting you through so much trouble to hide us. We can't thank you enough for helping us.”

  Mr. Feinstein waved away this apology as he had so many others. “It's worth it for the chance to prove the cryptograph wrong.”

  “Why is it so important to you?” Rae asked curiously, forgetting her manners for a moment. She blushed. “I mean...so many people all over the world have accepted the test without question. Why not you?”

  The old pawn broker fell silent for a moment. His eyes seemed troubled as he stared away into the distance, as though he were thinking about something that was painful to speak about.

  Finally he said, “When I was a child, I lived in a country where people were judged for things about themselves that they could not control—being a Pole, for example, or a Jew. Like myself.”

  Rae and Drew fell silent as the old man talked. He was choosing his words carefully. “There were people who helped my family leave before things got too bad. But others weren't so lucky. You've studied the Holocaust in your history textbooks at school, of course. But you can't fathom the depth of the horror of that time in history unless you were there.

  “When I came to this country, I thought I was coming to a place where that type of senseless hatred didn't exist. Except that wasn't true. Over and over in decades since I've seen groups of people sorted into categories based on something they couldn't control. And I've always tried to fight it.

  “The cryptograph is no different. It's a way to say that some people have more of a future than others, and therefore are better than others. But none of us can control that result. Why should we be sorted into groups - Transient, Interim, Constant…based on something we can't control? All so that a small collection of men can control all others for their own ends. History repeating itself. And it's wrong, no matter what
reasons they try to give to justify it.”

  He fell silent for a long moment, and neither dared break the silence. Finally he lifted his head and said, “When I was younger, before the cryptograph, before people knew when they would die—they lived their lives differently. I won't say that they were all happier. Some were very worried about death, and some were so worried about it that they took their own lives rather than wait for fate to end them. The world was very chaotic.

  “But there was good to be found in it. No one was relegated to a certain job or way of living based on their projected lifespan. People had hope for a long life and a bright future. Life wasn't always easy but at least they had something to try for. Now people don't really live, in the proper sense of the word. They exist in a sort of bubble, knowing they have decades to go, or they pass their short years in misery, knowing their death date will come too soon.

  “I want to believe the test is a lie, not for myself, but for all those generations after me who are becoming slaves to it. It's not the way people should live. People should be free to choose whatever destiny they write for themselves.”

  For a long moment no one in the basement spoke. With the windows blocked, Rae couldn't tell what time of day it was, but she imagined afternoon shadows chasing each other across the floor as they sat there, digesting what the old man had said.

  Finally he sighed and shook himself a little, saying, “Well, those are just the thoughts of an old man without much time left. It's the young who should be worried about the world. They're the ones who have to live in it.”

  Drew helped him to his feet, and the old man thanked him. “I hope you two will make it. I've never met anyone before who made it past their expiration date. I'd like to think it's possible.”

  “It's more than possible,” Drew pronounced. “You just come back down here on February fourteen. We'll be here. And we'll be alive.”