The Federation: Chapter 2

Training is different than usual, which is nice. "All right, guys, we have a lot to talk about," Larson says at the beginning of training.

"What happened to your wrist?" Naomi asks. 

"I...I cut my tracker off." Larson changes the subject, "Damien and I-"

"How!?" Okay, Naomi needs to shut up, now. 

"With a knife."

"If it was so easy, why don't other people do it?"

"Because it was risky." Larson nears Naomi, and leans in, leaving no more than an inch between their faces. She gets herself into trouble a lot. "If I had so much as barely slit the tracker, the Fed would have killed me. And there are veins and arteries right underneath the tracker; if I had cut too deep, I could've killed myself." He takes a breath and finishes, "Got it?" He steps back and continues, "Damien and I have devised a plan to stop the Fed. After training, I'm going to the Compound to recruit some of the warriors. I have to be careful though."

I step forward and stand next to Larson. "We need you guys' help. But it's dangerous. We might not make it out alive." Piper looks at me with tears in her eyes, then walks over to me. 

"I'm in." Tucker steps forward.

"Me too."

"Count me in!" Everyone agrees, except Naomi, who stands, leaning to one side, arms folded, behind everyone who's agreed. 

"I don't wanna die. I want to live freely."

"Naomi," I walk up to her and lean over just enough to match her height. "You have- we all have two options; live in slavery, or die freely, with a slight chance of living freely."

Her mouth works for a moment, then she nods. 

"Thank you." I guide her to the rest of the group, and glance at Piper. When I get over to her and notice her look of jealousy, I whisper to her, "You have nothing to worry about."

"We haven't finished the whole plan yet, but we will when we know how many people I can get from the Compound." Larson heads for the training area, and we all follow him. "You think you trained hard before? You ain't seen nothing, yet." He cracks down, he gets us to work. He trains us hard. We need to be ready for the attack. Training lasts nine hours; from five in the morning, to two in the afternoon. 

"All right, we gotta get home, then I have to head to the Compound to recruit some people," Larson announces. The walk home is the same as usual, but Larson and I are ahead of everyone else, because I have something important to discuss with him.

"Lars..." I begin hesitantly.

"Yeah?"

"What about Wes?"

Larson sighs and looks down a little. "What about him?"

"Well, we need to take him, don't we? We can use all the help we can get, and he was a great warrior!"

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. We can't. Absolutely not!"

"Why not?!" At this point, we're at his house already, so we sit down on his porch. 

"Do you have any idea how dangerous it would be to remove the tracker of someone who isn't in the Compound yet?"

"No, I guess not."

"We'll make do without him. I'll take it off after we win, if we do."

"Fine," I mutter. I cough for a second, then turn back to Larson. "I should get home, in case they come for me tonight."

"All right," He agrees. I say goodbye and start home. 

"Good news, Damien!" Larson nears me as he picks me up, on the way to training. "Guess how many people I got yesterday."

"How many?" I ask, excitedly awaiting an answer. 

Larson takes a deep breath, a smile spread across his face, and says "94."

My face lights up and I smile wide. "That's incredible! Thank you!"

He laughs softly. "You're welcome. We have about 115 warriors, against their 101!"

I allow myself to laugh a little. "That's amazing." I pause. "Did...did you find my family?" I ask nervously. 

"Some of it..."

"Like who?"

"Your brothers, Ritchie and Brody."

"I have brothers? I mean, I knew that...but I wasn't sure if they were still...alive." 

"They're alive. Each one of the Compound escapees are at the training center."

"Did you have to cut off all of their trackers?"

"Yeah...it wasn't too terrible, I guess."

"Thanks...for doing that." I speed up to get next to Piper. "Hey, Piper!" 

"Hi!" She starts. "You're awful happy today, Damien!"

"Something wrong with that?"

"No, but I'm not exactly used to it."

"To be fair, I'm not the only happy person." I open my mouth to continue, but Lars steps in front of the group to stop us and make an announcement. 

"All right, everyone, listen up!" He says, clapping his hands once and then rubbing them together. "There are about 100 compound escapees in there. Some of them may be family, go ahead and go crazy, reunite with them. It's been ten years, or so." Everyone starts chatting and getting excited. "Hey wait, there are rules, okay? Don't harass them. If you don't recognize anyone, there may not be anyone you know in there. Lastly, ask me before assuming that. I tried hard to get your families, if I could. I know all of them. Go on in, orderly." We walk in as a group, each one of us buzzing with excitement. A couple kids see their families immediately, others walk off to the side, knowing their family is dead already, and most of us stand on our tiptoes trying to see over everyone.

"How am I supposed to find mine?" Piper asks, looking at me nervously. "I only remember my sister Hattie and my parents-" She stops. She's staring off at the crowd and I follow her gaze. A lady, blonde hair and blue eyes, just like Piper, is staring back at her. "Mom?" Her eyes fill with tears and she runs for her mother. I watch with a smile on my face. I only remember my brother, but I doubt he's here. He didn't seem like the "warrior" type when we were growing up.

Everyone is either asking Larson, sitting by the wall looking depressed, or with their family. I look around for Ritchie. I look to the left side of the large group and hear a voice from my right call my name. I turn to see who it was. I think it's Ritchie, but I haven't seen him much since he was 13 so I'm not positive. "Ritchie, is that you?" I ask him. He comes closer, slightly tearing up, and nods as he pulls me into a hug. I don't remember us being very close, but neither of us cares anyway. 

He pulls away and wipes a tear away as he gestures to a man, slightly older than Ritchie, who was standing behind him. "Do you remember Brody at all?"

I frown a little and shake my head. "Not his name. Just that I had another brother. Larson reminded me earlier when he told me that he got you guys."

"I don't blame you for forgetting me, dude," Brody starts, smiling, and ruffling my hair like I'm five. "I wasn't all that memorable!"

"Yeah, he was, and still is, a square!" Ritchie laughs. Brody bumps into the side of Ritchie, teasingly. 

"Damien," Piper comes up behind me.

"Ooh, Damien! You have good taste in women!" Ritchie teases me. "I'm his brother, Ritchie."

"Nice to meet you," She states, acting as uninterested as possible so he gets the idea. "Damien, you've gotta meet my family." She grabs my arm and drags me behind her. I wave to my brothers, and smile at Piper's excitement. She seems like a little girl, which is nice. Not many people get to see that around her. "Damien, these are my siblings; Tate, Emerson, Holden, and Hattie. Then my mother, Wanda."

Piper's family and I exchange handshakes and hellos. "Please tell me you did not remember them..."

"Only my mom and Hattie, I said that earlier."

"Oh yeah." I smack my hand to my forehead and laugh. I shake my head, and as I'm doing so, I notice Naomi off to the side, on the verge of tears. "Excuse me, everyone." I walk over to her and crouch down in front if her. "Whatcha doing?"

"My family's dead, it's hopeless," She pouts. 

"Are you sure they're dead?"

"No, but I'm pretty sure."

"Ask Lars, Naomi! Maybe you're wrong! C'mon," I stand up and put my hand out to help her up, but she glances at it and ignores it, then stands up on her own. She walks off towards Lars, and I drop my arm to side and roll my eyes, following after her. "Lars," I start as we near him. "Did you get Naomi's family back, perhaps?"

"Yeah, I did," He answers.

Naomi's face takes on a look of shock. "You did? But, I thought they were...Where are they?"

"Um," Lars scans the room for a moment, then points at a couple, apparently Naomi's parents. "Right there."

Naomi smiles wide and tears flood her eyes. Her hand covers her mouth as the tears pour down her cheeks. I've never seen her like this, she never smiles, I never would have thought she knew how to cry, and she just seemed downright angry, all the time. But this- this is different side of her. She excitedly runs over to them, looking like a little girl, just like Piper. This is a weird day...but it's a great one. "You know," I hear someone say behind me. I turn and see Ritchie. "You never introduced me to your girlfriend."

I laugh and say, "Her name is Piper. Piper Dunn."

"I see," He laughs. More solemnly, he continues, "How old are you, now?"

"17."

"You never got tracked?"

"Nope. I...I got lucky, I guess."

"Damien!" Lars shouts from the other side of the training center.

"I gotta go, Ritch." I walk over to Lars and he says, "We have to get ready. We have to attack the Fed next week."

"Okay. But, why?"

"Don't ask questions, just trust me. All right?"

"Okay."

"All right, everyone, listen up!" Larson shouts over the noise. "I know this is a moment most of us never thought would happen, but we need to focus on the matter at hand; defeating the Fed."

Mutters and questions fill the room. 

"Quiet, everyone!" Larson snaps. "I need your attention. If you were a warrior, go to the training side. If you were a nurse or doctor, go to the classroom side. If you were still in my class, come up front." Everyone obeys. I join the class and Larson continues. "Some of our girls wished they were nurses, rather than warriors. Now's your chance. Go to the classroom side. The rest of you, training side." After everyone is in their place, Larson continues, "Nurses, I need you to teach these girls. All right?"

They all nod.

"Warriors, all of us will be training and practicing. We all need it, everyone can be better." We all group together, of course Brody and Ritchie are already by my side, and Larson begins, "Exercise your weakest point. Find the station with it, and practice. All day. Got it?" We nod and everyone scrambles to their station. For me, my weak point is dodging, because I have slow reflexes and I'm tall. Wes and I both had a hard time with it. Piper is a pro at it though, she has quick reflexes, she's small, and she is very agile, so she goes to the shooting range, my strong point. I spot Brody over by the knives, and Ritch over by Piper, though I think he's just over there to flirt with her, rather than to exercise his skills. 

I am exhausted after the whole day of dodging fake, cardboard bullets. When we have to go home, we say goodbye to everyone and Lars takes all the students home. I glance at Wes" house as we walk by and decide to inquire Larson about it more. I hate that he's already had to cut off about 100 of them, but we need Wes. He's too big of a help. "Lars, about Weston-"

"No. I already told you that, Damien." He states clearly. If I was smart, I'd get the idea and move on. But I'm not. 

"You know how good of a fighter he is, you know how much better we'd do if he was fighting with us!"

"Yes, you and I both know that. But what you don't know, is that the Fed knows what they're doing, and it is much too dangerous to get him. I can't just waltz into his house and cut off his tracker, it isn't that easy." He stops, the other students keep walking, and he places a hand on my shoulder as he leans down the my height. "I would love to get Wes. He is a wonderful warrior. But it puts him and all of us at too much risk."

"How so?"

"If you ever get taken, you'll understand. But it isn't quite so simple. I just need you to trust me."

"Okay, fine."

"Thanks." He retracts his arm and stands up straight again. He starts walking again, and I sigh and follow behind him. 

A thought enters my mind and I speed up to Larson's side. "What if I were to get tracked today? Would you leave me?"

"I'd have to. It's too dangerous."

I give him a sad, and somewhat disappointed look. 

"As much as I'd hate to, I would have no other option." He grins a little. "Sorry, kid, but that's how it is, that's how our life is. And it sucks. But it's life, this is life as we know it, and maybe, somewhere out there, there's an another life that's better, but we just need to find it. And we aren't searching hard enough."

"Do you think we'll ever find it?"

"Someday, maybe. I sure hope so."

"Me too. What do you think it'd take to get Africa or Europe to donate us some trees?"

Larson laughs, "Probably not a lot, but we don't exactly have means of communication with them. Only the Fed does."

"Dang it." I chuckle and we catch up with the group. Tucker is slowing, and breathing hard. He gets to his house and goes inside. The older brother, the one who almost lost his brother who had asthma, I recently learned his name; Miles. Miles Lansford, and his little brother's name is Jaden. I catch up to Miles. He's really and particularly sad person, but he's nice, and needs a friend. Jaden is cradled in his arms, and Miles looks at him nervously. "Hey, Miles."

"Hi, Damien, right?"

"Yeah. How's Jaden doing?"

"Fine. I guess. We need oxygen, or we won't live long enough to attack the Federation."

He's right. The oxygen is terrible, and getting worse. I didn't realize how fast we're all breathing. It's not getting any better, for sure. And I need it to, or Jaden isn't gonna make it. And we need each and every warrior. 

The Federation: Chapter 1

The group of 20 or so kids trudges along the shattered pavement, walking on broken hunks of cement that used to make up an interstate. There are hardly any signs of the trees that used to grow around here. Exerting yourself outdoors isn't a great idea, because the oxygen levels are so low, but walking to school is mandatory. We could never fit all the kids into our off-road vehicles that we use for transporting warriors. No other vehicles could drive on the broken pavement. 

A younger kid, not thirteen years old quite yet, slows to a stop, drops down on his knees, and gasps for air. Not enough oxygen. He probably has asthma. People with asthma don't last long around here. He coughs for a few seconds before I glance back at him. He's on his hands and knees, and what I can see of his face is purple. I walk faster. He's doomed, and I don't want to be nearby when he dies. 

Not a second goes by before a teenage boy runs back over to the younger kid, scoops him up in his arms, though I can tell he's starving and weak, and starts back for their house, I assume. Brothers. Not many of us still have those. 

"You okay?" Piper catches up to me. 

I look at her and say, "I guess." After a long pause, I continue, "I used to have brothers." She looks down. Everyone has lost someone to the Federation. 

We finally reach the school; a tattered, old warehouse, built in 2115. Half of it is for training, the other half has desks and chairs for our school. Our teacher and trainer, Larson Hanks, opens the door as we rush in. I notice him glance around outside, nervously, before ducking in. "Alright. Take your seats, we have a short day today. The Fed wants us training everyday, and only doing three half days of school a week." Most kids cheer, some moan, others hardly react. Larson begins teaching. All we really learn is geometry, like angles and stuff, it helps while fighting, and history, the wars. After two hours of geometry, he moves on to history. I've heard all this before. I know more than enough about the wars, but I tolerate his hour and a half long lesson anyway.

I guess we're training now. 

"This way, guys." Larson walks over to the training section. "The protocol is this: don't attack a classmate, unless we are doing a scrimmage; pay attention; and don't die. Easy as that."

"Yeah, that- that doesn't sound easy." A girl, a little younger than me, says. 

Infuriated, Larson slowly walks over to her. "What's your name?"

"Naomi Waters," She gulps. 

"Okay, well, Naomi...I suggest you keep your mouth shut and just go along with it, or you can go home right now, and I'll inform the Fed." Larson was within two inches of Naomi's face. Naomi looked down and nodded. "Guys, I don't like the Fed, you know that. But they're in charge of our lives, so I do what they say. Because I have to." He rolls down his sleeves as he finishes, covering up his tracker. 

Training is brutal. We all walk home slower than usual, because each and every one of us is sore beyond belief. The oxygen is getting continually lower. I'm lightheaded and breathing hard, just like every other teen. "You know what?" Weston Lake starts. He's a big guy, for his age. He's as old as I am. "I hate this stupid life that we live. I hate the Fed. And I hate the trackers. It's so stupid." Blunt. But he just said everything that I couldn't. I'm quiet. I keep my mouth sealed, because if I don't, I know I'll put my foot in it later. 

"Why do we have to listen to them, Lars?" Another teen says. I can't see her. 

"Because they'll kill us if we don't. And I don't think any of you want that." Larson doesn't turn to face us, he just keeps walking. He picks up speed, I notice his breathing get faster, and he seems a bit dizzy. The adults hardly ever have issues with he low oxygen levels, the trackers help with that, somehow. But Larson is clearly having problems. 

"Look at Lars," I whisper to Piper. "The air is so bad that even Lars is having trouble." Piper looks worried. I agree, it's something to be worried about. I can't say I'm not worried. He's the toughest, strongest person outside of the Compound. "We're doomed, Piper."

She nods and fights back tears. Changing the subject, she says, "I wish we had a way to give each other birthday gifts."

I let myself laugh a little. "That ended, like, 200 years ago!"

"So? I think it's awesome."

"Well, so do I, but it's impossible." I'm able to avoid getting choked up, surprisingly. I put my arm around Piper, and give her a squeeze. 

"Is your girlfriend okay, Damien?" Weston asks me. I give him a shove and the three of us laugh. Weston is a bit of a jerk, but he's okay. He needs the family, so Piper and I try hard to be there for him. He was the youngest in his family, so three years ago, when his brother turned 17, Weston was left by himself, his whole family trapped in the Compound. 

We start reaching the neighborhoods, and every four or five houses, someone leaves the group. Piper and I live in the upper neighborhoods, so we have another five minute walk before we're home. Weston walks off, then another person, and by the time Piper and I get home, there are no more than four of us, including Larson. My house is first, so I say goodbye to Piper. Back to the dreary place I call my home. 

I'm sore and exhausted when I wake up. My lungs ache with each breath I take. Between the debris, and the low oxygen, the air kills my lungs. I manage to get out of bed, and head for my small kitchen to scavenge for food. Nothing. I hardly ever have food. My head spins as I turn for my front door, so I can wait for Larson to come by. I cough hard, and for at least twenty seconds- a normal occurrence for a lot of us. 

"Morning, Lars." I rasp. He nods his head slightly, in return. Piper is already with him. She's nervous, I can tell. We're 17 now; the Federation could come for us anytime. "You okay, Piper?"

She shakes her head. "I'm scared."

I take a deep breath and reply, "I am too."

"What if they come for us? I don't want to be in slavery. I want to be free."

I sigh. "Me too." After a long pause, I say, "Not much we can do about that, though." 

"Are you sure? There must be something!"

"It's impossible." I shake my head. 

"It can't be!"

Larson joins us and stops walking. The other kids stop too. "It is. I promise. I thought it had to be possible, too, when I was your age. When the Fed came for me, I was still hopeful. But now...now that they've had me for eight years...I know how wrong I was..." He starts walking again. We walk for a few minutes and Weston isn't waiting for us. 

"Lars," I begin to panic; Weston was already 17. "Where's Wes!?"

Larson hesitates before answering, "The Fed got him yesterday. After training."

Piper starts tearing up. I'll admit, so do I, and Larson probably would have, if the Federation didn't control our emotions like that, when we are tracked. They let us feel things; sadness, happiness, love, joy, pain, all that. But they don't let us cry. They don't let us smile much or laugh much. They think emotions are fine, as long as they are kept under control, but they're wrong. Oh, so wrong. They don't understand.

It's another day; training, aching, screaming, a bit of laughing, that's how my days always go. The laughter is subdued without Weston. He's the life of our class. 

While Larson goes over a training technique with Naomi, I stop practicing and count the students. 

24 kids are left. After that, the Federation will have us all, and we'll all be slaves to them.  I turn back to the shooting range and fire my rifle, hitting the bullseye of the target. Piper is next to me, and I turn to face her. "Piper," I begin, as she faces me. "there are only 24 kids left."

"What about it?" She asks, looking concerned. 

"We can't let the Federation take us. We need to take them." I fire my rifle a couple times, so Larson doesn't see us getting off track. "Take them down."

"Are you nuts?" She fires her rifle. "They'll kill us when we walk within a mile of the Compound."

"No they won't, we could do it."

"Damien, slow down. They have an army of over 150 people, including Lars, and he's got spot-on accuracy. We would die so fast."

"We need to. I don't know about you, but I don't wanna live in slavery for the rest of my life. Besides, what's the point of any of this? Why do we need warriors when the wars ended 50 years ago?"

"I don't know, the Federation knows more than we do. Maybe there's conflict between us and another country, and we just don't know about it."

"Are you siding with the Federation!?"

"No, of course not, Damien, I just don't think an uprising against it is a good idea. I think we'll just get killed."

"I'd rather die than be a slave to the Federation. At least I'll die with a little bit of freedom and dignity." I fire my rifle a few more times, then stand up and walk over to Larson for the next part of training. 

"Larson," I walk up to him after class. 

"What do you need, kid?" He asks, placing his hands on his hips.

"How much are you allowed to say about the Fed?"

He takes a deep breath and looks at me hard. He studies my face for a moment, then continues, "Not a whole lot. But I can try to tell you as much as possible. Why?"

"How strong are their armies?"

"Strong. Like 150 of me." He says, finishing with a smirk and a wink. 

I laugh softly. "Wow, that's pretty strong." He rolls his eyes. "Is the Fed, perhaps, in any...conflict with another country?"

Larson's face goes white and he looks nervous, and somewhat angry. He pulls me aside, glancing around nervously at the other students, who are yammering in the training area. "How much do you know about that, Damien?" He whispers.

"Nothing, I was just wondering! Are we?"

"Look, I can't tell you much, but I can say 'yes'. That's it. Now c'mon, we gotta get these kids home." He starts for the door, and the kids all start following us. "Be careful, Damien. You're a good kid, and you'll make a good warrior. Don't get yourself in trouble."

I nod as the kids start out the door. I almost choke on the air as we walk out. "Is there anything we can do about the oxygen, Lars?" I say loud enough for the whole group to hear.

"Not unless you know where to get a tree or two. They have oxygen in Asia and Europe and Africa still, that's the only reason we still have some. Just not enough."

"You're telling me!" Naomi shouts. "This air is dreadful!" She complains. I am pleased to say that her house is the third house, so she is gone almost immediately. The rest of the walk home is silent. Until I reach my house.

I grab Piper and whisper in her ear, "In case you or I get taken tonight-" and wrap my arms around her. The only other people around are a ten-year-old named Tucker, and Larson, so I'm not worried about it. She hugs me back and I squeeze tighter, just before letting go. I turn for my front door, but feel a hand on my shoulder. It's Larson. 

"Bye, kid," He says. "As a precaution." He and I give one another a quick hug and I turn for my door, postponing an incoming coughing fit until I get inside. The door shuts, and I cough, hard and loud, for thirty seconds or so. I have mail, which only comes once a month and is usually just stupid stuff, but I have a package this time. It's small; barely bigger than my hand. But a package is a package, and it usually means food. It is food. Glorious, delicious food. It's just a small can of cheese soup and a small loaf of stale bread, but it's food. I usually get food every four or five months, and it had to last that long. This time, it just has to last until I'm taken.

My lungs ache again this morning. I can see the debris floating in the air. The air is smoky-looking, because of the debris; it's terrible. It's gonna kill me before anything else does. I have to get up, I have to go to school and training, but I'm so exhausted. The oxygen level is far too low. I think my lungs might give out today. I truly feel like I'm about to die. 

But I can't, I have far too much too live for. I have to save me and Piper. I have to save the kids. I have to save everyone in the Compound. I have to take over the Federation; but I don't have the energy to think about that now, I have to focus, I have to get ready for training.

Every move I make makes me hurt even more. I can barely move, I'm dizzy, my head is spinning, and my lungs ache with each breath, as usual, but it's worse today. I stand up from my small kitchen table, slowly so I don't pass out, and go out onto the porch to wait for Larson. 

Training and school are the same as usual, but I need to talk to Larson, again, after class. "What do you need, Damien?" He asks me. 

"What do you do on Sundays?"

"I sit in my house, and sleep, sometimes. Why?"

"Can you come by my house-"

"They'll see me. The Fed, they'll see that I'm not at my house."

"Could I go to yours?" I ask hopefully. 

"Not inside, that's against the rules and I can't keep secrets from the Fed. But you can meet on my porch. I'm allowed on my porch."

"Okay. I'll be there tomorrow."

"All right. Let's go, guys!" He shouts, getting the other kids' attention. We all head back home, the same repetitive walk home that I've done everyday since I was four.

Nothing special happens until Sunday afternoon, when I go to talk to Larson. It's a risk, because I'm 17, and the Federation could come for me- if they discover I'm gone, they'll put me in prison. I'm willing to take the risk, though. I walk to Larson's house, a short walk from my house, and meet him on his porch. 

"Why did you need to talk to me, Damien?" He asks as I draw closer to the porch.

"I need to overthrow the Fed."

"Whoa, whoa! Slow down, kid! You think it's that simple!?" He looks at me like I'm crazy, which I probably am. 

"No, but I have to do it anyway."

"Why?"

"Because I can't live my whole life in slavery to the Federation."

His eyes flutter downward. "How can I help you?"

"I don't know. You can't defy the Fed."

"I can, but they'll know about it. They'll be on my tail the second I step foot off my porch. Unless..." He pauses and looks at his tracker.

"Unless what?" I notice his fingers playing with his pocket knife. "No. No way, Lars!"

"Why not? You need all the help you can get, and I am full willing to to help you."

"Larson, listen to me; you cut that tracker off and you'll cut an artery, you'll bleed to death before you're any help. Don't do it."

"I'll die to stop them. Gladly. I know others in the Compound that would be just as willing to help." He finishes with a glimmer of hope in his voice.  

"Larson-"

"Go home, Damien. I don't want you here to see this. Besides, it's a risk for you to be out." He states bluntly. I open my mouth to object, but he cuts me off. "Go home. Please."

I sigh and agree, then stand up and head back for my house. 

"After I get this thing off, I'll come by and we can talk the plan over; decide how we'll go about this."

Feeling a bit queasy and nauseous at the thought of Larson cutting off his tracker, I walk home slowly. It's the longest walk ever, I'm so nervous that he's gonna kill himself; but he's a tough guy...I just don't know what to think. He's my only father figure, seeming as I don't remember any of my family. I don't even remember having a family. 

I sit on my porch and wait for him, leaning against my door. The air is feeling a little better, for some reason, but it's still terrible. I wait an hour, before he shows up, a thick bandage tied around his wrist. "See? I told you it would work. I'd be dead by now if it hadn't."

"How much is it bleeding...?" I ask, gingerly turning his hand over to see the other side of his wrist. The bandage is red. "Larson-"

"I'm okay. I promise. How are we gonna do this?" He acts fine. He might be fine, I guess, but I can't tell. I know I wouldn't be. 

"I honestly don't know. You're free now, you can tell me what you think the best way to do this would be."

A look of surprise washes over his face. "Wow, um...who do we have?"

"Anyone we can get. When do you go to the Compound?"

"Whenever. I'll head over there after we have a plan."

I nod. "Okay."

"I should be able to get at least 25 to 50 people from the Compound."

"Who do we need to kill to save everyone?"

"The Fed."

"How many people is that?"

Hesitantly, Larson answers, "45."

"Plus, the warriors. How many-"

"About 100."

I roll my eyes. "Great."

"We can do it, Damien. Don't give up."

"We'll have a maximum of 100. They'll outnumber us no matter what."

Larson puts his hands on my shoulders, and whispers, "Don't think I didn't your conversation with Piper. 'I'd rather die than be a slave to the Federation. At least I'll die with a little bit of freedom and dignity'." 

I'm taken aback. "How-"

"Are we going to attack them or not, Damien?

I pause to think; was I being compulsive? Probably. But it just might pay off. "Yes." 

The Federation: Prologue

It started about 150 years ago, in 2117 The government collapsed under the pressure of the citizens of our country. Everything went insane. Wars started between states, people starved, stores were abandoned and cleaned out by hungry citizens. Every adult man who could walk was enlisted as a warrior. Each state went against it's neighboring states. Alaska and Hawaii came to help, but ninety percent of their citizens weren't prepared enough, and were killed. Women and children hid as best as they could, but someone would always find them. It was almost inevitable that if you weren't a trained warrior, your death was on the way. The last living person who had been through that, Victor Townsend, died two weeks ago, along with most of the knowledge that we had of the life that the citizens lived.

For the most part, the wars ended about 100 years ago. They lasted almost 50 years. Almost everyone died; at least we think so. Ten years ago, we gathered as many survivors as possible. The people who still hated the other states were willing to stay with their two or three friends and wait for starvation to take their lives. Others still hate the other states, but they're too weak and want some of the little food that we have. Our guards keep them under close watch, in case they decide they're strong enough to make a move. 

I'm blessed, compared to most. I live in the less destroyed part of our town. It's still garbage, and debris-filled, but it's nicer than most have. I live alone. I have a family, somewhere. I'm pretty sure that the Federation has them. They have most of us. We aren't allowed to have kids either, because we don't enough food to feed the survivors as it is. The youngest kids you will ever see here are ten. That's when they made the law. Some people hide their young kids, because if the Federation finds them they will kill them. 

I don't live alone because the Federation has my family, though. Teenagers are forced to move out. We train three days a week, go to school three days, and have recreation time on Sundays, but there's not much to do. Most of us just sit around, because we're not really supposed to be outside of our homes for more than, like, five minutes, aside from training and school.  

When you're 17, the Federation comes for you. It's impossible to know when, but they come, tell you that it's time, you obediently hold your arm out, and they stick a tracker, it looks kind of like gold mesh and wires, on the inside of your wrist with a tracking device inside it. Then, you have up to two weeks to get ready to leave; they come, and take you to The Compound, and, from then on, you are in slavery. They decide what to do with you. Maybe they make you clean, or cook, or fight, or search for things, it all depends on your strengths and weaknesses. I'll probably be a warrior. Piper will probably be a doctor or a nurse. She seems like the type. 

Piper is my only "family". She lost hers to the Federation, too, and we kinda just stuck together. She lives down the road from me. The houses are all attached, like the town homes that they used to have around the turn of the millennium. Small houses that are all neat, and in a row, lining the streets. 

Tomorrow, she and I turn 17. I know the Federation will be here soon. I hate to leave my house, afraid that they'll show up at my door, and kill me because I'm not home, but it gets so boring, sitting alone in my house. I sneak down the street to Piper's; I don't stay too long, just long enough to cure my loneliness.