Free Vivian Apple Needs a Miracle by Katie Coyle

enticing. You realize what another Rapture means, right? They’re going to do it again and again, until they come up with something else, something big enough to keep people believing and buying. Listen.” His tone gets strident. Harp has fixed him with an intensely skeptical look. “I appreciate your concerns, but you’re not a part of this. We’ve weighed the alternatives, and this is the only viable plan.”
    â€œIt’s a stupid plan,” Harp shoots back. “There’s a better one sitting right in front of you, and it’s so easy, and so effective, with so much less murder involved. Right, Apple?”
    I turn to her. “What?”
    Harp beams at my confusion, like she’s just discovered she’s the smartest person in the room. “Seriously? It’s so obvious. We have the best possible weapon there is against the Church. It’s the only thing in the world we have.”
    When I frown at her, Harp shakes her head. She still can’t believe I don’t get it.
    â€œThe truth, Viv.”

Chapter Six
    â€œJust write it like it happened.”
    I sit at a desk by the windows—beyond the screen of Harp’s laptop is the blue of the ocean. It’s early the next morning, and the sky is the pale pink hue that darkens every afternoon into an alarming, fiery red no meteorologist seems able to explain. I’m exhausted—Harp kept me up late, working out the details of her plan, and when I slept I slipped from nightmare to nightmare.
    â€œViv,” Harp says patiently beside me. “It’s not that hard. We can fix it up after you’ve finished, make it sound snappy. Just tell it like you’re telling it to me.”
    I sigh and stare at the screen. Harp has already typed in a headline: THE TRUTH ABOUT THE CHURCH OF AMERICA
.
I look up at her.
    â€œYou’re sure this can’t be traced back to us?”
    She nods. “Suzy set it up and she’s a genius. The Wi-Fi at this place is so well protected, the FBI couldn’t track us down.”
    Suzy has her back to us at another desk, typing intimidating-looking code. She turns, frowning, at Harp’s words. “The FBI could
definitely
track us down, if they wanted to. But the Church won’t know how, and we’ll be in Los Angeles by the time they realize what you’re posting. That’s when the real trouble will start.”
    â€œThat’s extremely encouraging, Suzy, thanks,” I say, and she giggles.
    â€œLook alive, Apple!” Harp grabs my head and turns it back toward the screen. “The fate of the world rests on your shoulders right now. No pressure.”
    Diego was reluctant to approve Harp’s plan. Winnie finally convinced him that it couldn’t hurt—though I think she pushed for it mainly as a way to keep me out of trouble. Now I stare at Harp’s headline. Picking carefully at the laptop’s keys with my left hand—my right still firmly encased in its splint—I begin to tell our story:
    Â 
We found the place late at night in Point Reyes. There were several statues out front that confirmed it as a Church of America compound.
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    â€œWhat the hell?” mutters Harp in my ear.
    â€œI can’t write if you’re reading over my shoulder!”
    â€œYeah, clearly.” She reaches over me, hitting delete until the screen is blank except for her headline. “You can’t start at the end of the story. A lot of important shit went down before we got to the compound. You have to introduce yourself—that’s what’s going to draw people in, once they realize you’re one of the girls on the feed.”
    â€œOkay.” I nod. “That makes sense.”
    Â 
My name is Vivian Apple and I am 17 years old. I was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.
    You may be wondering why I am writing this blog post. Well,
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    I hear Harp groan and I look up at her. “What’s