Of Freedom's Fall (Death Prediction Project #3)

February 16th, 3:00 am

The Streets of Harlem, NY

Atlas was sitting in the passenger seat with his arms crossed over his chest staring out the window. He’d looked cross or pissed-off but I was pretty sure that was typical of him at this point. I was attempting to sleep in the back seat having taken another shift after we dropped Porter off at the house with his message from some mystery soldier.

“Are you actually watching for him?” I asked sitting up.

“Of course, I am,” Atlas exclaims. “But if he’s really this good at hiding why would he need us?”

“You saw what happened when we invaded your base, if Ryker and Porter had actually gotten the jump on you, it wouldn’t have been pretty,” I commented. “Also, it would be harder to try and get two out of whatever military base they’re holding them in than one.”

“Do you really believe anyone will listen to us, though? We’re a bunch of kids,” he continues.

“We have to otherwise we might as well give up the fight now and turn ourselves in. Live out the rest of our lives in military and government custody,” I reply.

“Yeah, I see your point. Nobody wants that,” he replies. “I wouldn’t want that for Lucy, at least.”

“Lucy probably wouldn’t be here, honestly. She’d either be paid to keep silent about what she knows or worse she’d end up like Harriet,” I replied.

“We still don’t know if Harriet’s dead for sure,” he replies.

“We don’t know that Ryker’s alive either,” I counter.

“They need him, that’s why they took him,” Atlas states. “Look, he wasn’t my favorite person, but even I have the decency to hope he’s okay.”

“Somebody’s coming,” I stated looking out the back window down the alley.

Atlas slowly opens the door and slides out of the sedan into the darkness of the alley. He crawls around the front bumper holding his 9mm in his right hand, close to the side of his head, pointed up in the air. He waits for the figure to approach the side of the car.

As the figure got closer, I could see it was a young man, he had a hood up covering most of his face, his dirty blond hair covered the rest. I couldn’t get a good look at his face though, I don’t know what the chances were of him walking down the same alley twice either.

Atlas grabbed him and pulled him towards the back of the sedan. He held the young man against the trunk. I got a better look at his face this way, bingo. It was Soren, the Broadway posters of the musical he was supposed to be in right now were a major help in confirming that.

I got out of the sedan.

“Soren,” I said trying to calm him down before he drew too much unwanted attention.

“We want to help you, man,” Atlas tried. “If you’d just listen to us for five minutes.”

He kicks back with his leg, hitting Atlas in the shin. Atlas releases him and he pulls out his own gun and points it at us. I put my hands up.

“Come on, man,” Atlas groans.

“Your silent souls, the military has you hunting death predictors like me down,” he states.

“Austin’s the only silent soul working the military,” I exclaim.

“The rest of us are trying to stop the military and the government,” Atlas, replies. “Haven’t you seen the video?”

“He’s been on the street for weeks, that video went up less than a week ago,” I reply.

“I’ve seen your video. How do I know it’s not some publicity stunt?” he questions.

“Do you really think the military would only send us two after someone who’s evaded them for weeks?” Atlas retorts. “Did you see the wanted statements for Porter and Ryker, too? Does Maya’s statement mean nothing to you?”

“You could have threatened her to say all that,” Soren exclaims.

“Soren, please. I know it sounds crazy and maybe it is. You can drive us back to the place we want to take you at gunpoint if you want to. We promise you we don’t work for the military, to be completely clear, few of us do and we are not affiliated with them. We want to have normal lives, we’re fighting for our freedom,” I attempt to explain.

“We already watched one of our friends get taken by those military bastards, we don’t want that to happen to you, too,” Atlas replies.

Soren looks between the two of us slowly lowering the gun.

“Fine, let’s go. Just know if I find anything off, I’m shooting you, no questions asked, okay?” Soren clarifies.

“We wouldn’t expect much less,” Atlas states with a sarcastic smile.

I help him up and he puts the 9mm back in his waist band.

“Is anyone else with you? Do we have to go back and get your things?” I ask.

“I didn’t stay out sight by being sentimental or a sitting duck,” Soren replies.

“Alright then,” I reply.

I give Atlas the keys, he runs around to the driver’s seat of the sedan and gets in. I get in the passenger seat and Soren takes up residency in the back seat. In the light of the sedan, I can see it’s been a rough few weeks for Soren. His hair is oily, his face covered in dirt, and his clothes dusty. Atlas puts the car into drive and slowly merges onto the street.

“So, what’s the plan, exactly?” Soren asks.

“Hope the public wants the truth and justice for us. We were kids when we were experimented on,” Atlas replies.

“Hope? That’s all you got? Two of your members are wanted for the kidnapping of a girl and that’s what you’re doing, is hoping?” he questions.

“The public has a good history of wanting justice,” I comment.

He doesn’t reply.

“Is Ryker supposed to sit and wait for the public to get him out, too?” Soren questions.

“No, we have an inside man for that,” I reply.

“Inside man?” he questions.

“We got a message from someone who’s in contact with him. There were another four test subjects, he found out he and his friend were two of them. They were classified as: Hybrids. We don’t know what that means yet,” I explain.

“Did you ask for proof?” Soren questions.

“Porter did,” I reply.

“Has he gotten any?” Soren asks.

“We’ll have to see,” Atlas comments smiling into the rear-view mirror. “Won’t we?”