Free Children of the Uprising by Trevor Shane

glass. It would be more than he’d had to drink at one sitting in years. Normally, he kept the whiskey and the glasses in his office only for ceremonial purposes. Today, he needed it. He poured another three fingers of whiskey into the glass. He wondered if he should tell Christopher that the War was getting bloodier, that more people were running away, that more people were getting killed, that some people were even talking about revolution. He wondered if he should tell Christopher about the plans that he already knew about. He wondered if he should tell Christopher what the people talking about revolution said about him. Reggie drank half of the second glass before stepping back toward the desk. He could feel the alcohol already rushing through his veins. Reggie could see Maria in Christopher’s face. He looked at Christopher and remembered drinking with Christopher’s mother and her friend Michael in the apartment in New York. Maria and Michael were famous now. Famous and dead. “Will you let us help you?”
    â€œWhat if I don’t want to run?” Christopher asked. Reggie held his breath during the pregnant pause that followed the question, waiting to see what Christopher would say next, trying to think of how he would respond if Christopher told him that instead of running he wanted to fight.
If he asks to fight
, Reggie thought,
do I still have to keep the promises that I made or can I tell this boy who he is? Can I tell him that he alone possesses the power to end this War?
But the dilemma that Reggie was almost wishing for never crystallized. “What if I just want to go home?” the boy said, and Reggie once again remembered that Christopher, with all the power he had, was still a boy, and he remembered why he’d made the promise in the first place.
    â€œYou can’t. You run with us or you run alone.”
    Christopher knew what that meant, but he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what choice he had, but he wasn’t ready to forsake his parents in Maine or Evan without thinking about his options first. “I need to think about it,” Christopher finally answered.
    Thinking is dangerous,
Reggie thought. “Okay,” he said. “You can stay with Max tonight. I’ll let him know. But you don’t have a lot of time. Staying in one place for any amount of time is dangerous. I can’t guarantee that you’ll be safe here.”
    â€œI understand,” Christopher said.
    Reggie stood up and walked toward the door. His legs were already wobbly from the liquor. He girded himself and walked out the door to find Max. Reggie closed the door behind him. Christopher watched the door close and then he was alone in the dimly lit, windowless room. He had an urge to get up and pour himself a drink from Reggie’s whiskey bottle. He fought it. He knew that it wouldn’t do him any good. He didn’t know anything that would.

Ten
    Alejandro scooped up a handful of sand from the beach and let it slowly sift through his fingers. The sand was as fine and white as baby powder. It was still cool from the night before. The sun would heat it up soon enough. Before long, the sand would be so hot that you would barely be able to walk on it.
    Alejandro looked down the beach. It stretched out in front of him, curving around the blue water of the Pacific Ocean. The waves came crashing onto the shore, endlessly battering it into submission. Dozens of palm trees lined the back of the beach where the white sand turned quickly into jungle. From where he was kneeling Alejandro could see the entire mile-long beach. He was alone. The beach would get more crowded later, but not by much. The tourists hadn’t discovered this beach yet. Alejandro knew that they would find it eventually, but probably not for another few years. Still, plans were already being drawn up to move the Intelligence Center. The fact was that they’d put the Intelligence Center