Among the Free

Chapter Nineteen

By the time Don backed his pickup truck out of his garage, more than a dozen others had decided to join them. Don didn't seem to care.

"Hop in," he said, grinning from the driver's seat.

Three or four people crowded into the truck's cab; Luke was part of the group that jumped up into the truck's bed. He settled near the front, his back against the cab's win' dow, his knees drawn up to his chest because there wasn't room to stretch them out. Most of the rest of the group were men and boys, though a few girls and women had crowded in too. At the last minute, just before they pulled away, Don's wife ran out of the house after them.

"Wait!" she called. "I'm coming too!"

"I thought you said it wasn't safe," Don teased her. "Did you change your mind?"

"No, but if you're going, I am too," she said.

The truckful of people cheered as she crowded into the cab. Two people got out to make room for her and scrambled into the back instead. Everyone scooted closer together to make room. As they drove off, Luke had one kid's elbow in his ear and another kid practically sitting in his lap.

'At least this way we won't get cold!" someone shouted, and everybody else laughed.

Luke couldn't help remembering another time he'd been crowded with a bunch of other people onto the bed of a pickup truck. That time, his brother Mark had been driving, and Population Police officers had been shooting at them.

Could those Population Police officers have just given up? Luke wondered. And where's Mark now?

Around him, people were singing as they sped into the dusk, giving the whole truck the feel of a traveling carnival.

"Hey, folks, I'm picking up the newscast on the radio," Don yelled back from the cab. "You won't believe this — it's Philip Twinings on the air!"

Luke was glad when one of the other kids asked, "Who's Philip Twinings?"

"He was a famous newscaster when we were kids," one of the men explained. "He disappeared after the droughts— everybody thought he was dead."

"Or arrested by the Government," someone else muttered.

"That's right — he spoke out against all the new laws they put in place. I bet he's happy now!"

"Be quiet back there and I'll turn it up!" Don yelled again from the truck cab.

The singing stopped. Dimly, over the rushing sound of the wind, Luke could hear a wobbly, old-man voice saying, "I want to thank Simone and Tucker for inviting me onto the air with them to cover this phenomenal turn of events."

"Don't mention it. We really didn't know what we were doing." Simone's voice sounded small and hollow, suddenly.

"You did very well. You'll be telling this story to your grandchildren someday, and you'll have every right to be proud," Philip said. His voice was stronger now. "We here at — shall we call it Freedom News, Simone? — are still trying to piece together this rapidly breaking news event. As near as we can tell, today's coup began with many small events. On Monday, the Population Police sent units out all across the country, to issue new identity cards. We've received reports that in many places, the people refused to be identified and some even attacked the Population Police units. And we've got an unconfirmed report that in Chiutza, a young Population Police recruit defied his commander and refused to shoot an old lady. He gave his gun to the rebels instead…."

Luke gasped. He had to bite back the words, Wait! That was me — but that's not exactly how it happened! He looked around and was glad that no one was watching him. Some of the people around him were squinting off into the distance, as if that could help them listen better.

"Philip, no disrespect here, but that story is pretty much confirmed," Simone was saying. "We had an eyewitness tell us that that's what gave his village the courage to throw the Population Police out. And everybody says that Chiutza is where the Population Police fell first."

Luke tried to make sense of what he was hearing. When he'd dropped the gun, could someone have believed he was turning it over to the rebels? Could his one action have made that much of a difference?

"Uh, Mr. Twinings, sir," Tucker was saying on the radio. "Shouldn't you say that this whole coup thing was caused by those rebels who destroyed all the I.D.'s? If they hadn't done that, the Population Police wouldn't have had to go out to Chiutza and all those other places to issue new identity cards."

Philip Twinings chuckled.

"It is indeed difficult to separate out all the roots of this incredible event. My guess is that historians will be trying to figure everything out for years to come. But just as there were many small erosions of freedom that led to the Population Police seizing total control, it would appear that many, many small acts of bravery brought the people back to power. Each act was important; perhaps the Population Police never would have fallen without every single effort No matter how well journalists and historians do their jobs, the world will probably never know the full story of those brave acts or the total number of individuals involved…."

A man near Luke was rolling his eyes.

"That Philip Twinings always was a pompous jerk," he muttered.

"Shh!" several others around him hissed.

Luke stopped listening so intently. He was picturing a glob of horse manure placed carefully in a path — his contribution to the effort to destroy all the identity cards.

Horse manure and a dropped gun — are you proud of me now, Jen? he thought. Maybe Philip Twinings was right, and even the smallest act was important.

Around him, the other people seemed to be getting tired of having to sit so quietly, listening.

"Shut up, Philip Twinings! I'm free to tell you that!" one man yelled, and everyone else laughed.

"No more showing identity cards every time we step outside!" someone else yelled.

"No more Poppies bossing us around!"

"No more Poppies telling us we don't deserve to eat!"

"No more Poppies!"

More laughter.

Luke could feel the edge of the Population Police insignia rubbing against his chest. If he told these people that he'd once been part of the Population Police, would they get upset? Would they believe him if he said he'd been the recruit in Chiutza who had maybe set off the whole overthrow of the government? Could he believe that himself? What if he told them he was a third child?

Am I still illegal? he wondered as he burrowed back into his corner of the truck bed. He was still holding the quilt that Eli had given him, and he wrapped it tighter around his shoulders.

Illegal or not, he was still trying to hide.