Chester and the 24-hour Lottery
Chapter 25; Pop and Pound

“Wake up.”

Chester groggily lifted his head from the backseat, noticing he was the only one not up and at it. Gazing at the skyline, witnessing the faint bruising colors of dawn, a peaceful moment occurred before the reality of what the day would bring settled heavily in his heart and he rubbed his eyes to disperse negative thoughts before climbing out of the truck.

“Did you sleep at all?” He asked Racket, who had woken him.

“I’ll sleep when this is over, besides, who else would watch your drooling face while you rested?”

“You’re always so pleasant to be around,” he muttered, absently wiping his mouth before stretching and caught her looking upset by his words, “What?”

“I sometimes think you appreciate nothing I do for you, Chester.” The sincerity in her voice surprised him, “If it were up to me I’d leave you all behind and do this myself.”

“Are you saying we’re slowing you down?” he scoffed, “You’re tough, but not indestructible and there are too many soldiers inside Allard even for you.”

“The opposite but all I needed was to replace out where Spell is hiding and I did.”

“What are you talking about?” Deven asked, catching her words.

“Crane sent me a message we have allies waiting. We hand off weapons, they divert attention then attack Spell. I have his concordance and how many officers they posted to defend the coward.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Henry stomped over in anger, “Where are we supposed to meet these new friends?”

Racket picked up bags, tossing them into the vehicle. “Spell had an electric fence put in place and officers stay behind it, which is in our favor. At nine they will shut off the electricity then we cut a hole and sneak inside. They’ll wait in the back of a bakery and I’ve already looked at the map and calculated coordinates where we need to enter in order to reach the designated spot.”

Chester glanced over at Van who seemed impassive but he knew she was tallying all the ways this could go wrong. They had intended to fight their way inside and although this plan sounded less dangerous, there was still too much to consider. He pondered Racket’s words about leaving them behind and had a passing thought maybe she was trying to protect them by being a martyr but couldn’t regard the woman being that selfless.

After pissing and drinking a carton of water to wash down a dry piece of bread that sat like a stone in his stomach they headed out in combat gear. He tugged at the vest strapped around his torso and holding the automatic AR-15 rifle with its laser scope tight to his chest, found its weight much lighter than he imagined.

Henry sped down dirt roads so fast Chester clung to the side of the door, thinking there was no way they wouldn’t go unnoticed before reaching their designation. When Henry stopped, it was because of a roadblock made of large felled trees so they abandoned the SUV proceeding on foot staying opposite the road, away from the fence line which they could see was indeed guarded and had sporadic surveillance mounted on top of floodlight poles.

Walking in pairs, Henry with Lacy, Deven following Racket and Van sticking close to Chester’s left, they slowly approached the spot they would cut through in the fence. Racket pinpointed the bakery less than thirty feet from where they stood, but it might as well be ten miles from the way Chester sweated from carrying his gear and an extra bag filled with weapons to handoff.

“Five minutes,” Racket whispered, “I have an idea of how to enter Spell’s home and take out the officers in front. They will tighten security once the mayhem starts.”

“Does it involve my little helpers?” Henry winked, touching the grenade belt on his waist.

“It does, and any vehicle we replace.”

“You want to pop and pound?” Lacy asked, keeping a watchful eye out while tucking her red hair into a dark knit cap, “I can scout and hot wire but won’t be able to meet our new friends.”

“Alone or do you need Henry to go with you?”

“I’m carrying half the arsenal,” he hissed, “She’ll be fine, right?”

Lacy shrugged casually in agreement. Chester felt antsy, switching from foot to foot until Van gave him a frown and a shake of her head. He looked at the laser cutter on the ground glad someone grabbed it from the armory but feared it would alert officers to their location.

Everything was freaking Chester out from waiting around to the birds chirping in the trees above his head. Sounds left and right had him visibly twitching and Van placed a calming hand on his forearm telling him to take deep breaths. She knew he wasn’t ready to shoot people or get shot. Who is their right mind would be?

Racket.

The woman grinned ear to ear, using the laser to cut through the fence like butter then motioned them through the hole. Quickly, they raced to hide behind an old brick building directly across the street from the bakery. So far it appeared they hadn’t been spotted but Chester took big gulping breaths which earned him glares.

“Calm your shit,” Henry growled, “We’ll catch up with you soon Lacy.”

The red-head smiled ruefully then darted away to accomplish the task set solely on her shoulders. With a quick signal of all-clear from Racket, the rest ran across the paved street entering the bakery through a rickety wooden screen door. Inside his nostrils immediately flared from the delicious aroma of baked goods.

Standing or squatting around the brick ovens and equipment were adolescents way too young to handle weapons such as Chester held. He scanned faces, seeing their gauntness and desperation like a slap in the face.

“You made it,” A girl no older than eighteen in dirty clothing looking as if she needed a good ten meals to regain her natural weight said in greeting, grabbing onto Van’s arm, “I didn’t think you would.”

Van gently detangled herself asking, “Is this what you want? Can you wield these weapons and fire on your own people?”

“Give it to me,” A lanky boy with traces of his first facial hair raced from the rear and tried to snatch the bag from Henry, but the man shoved the kid aside with a warning glare, “I’m ready! I know what to do!”

“Shut up,” the girl hissed, “You’re being too loud! Yes, we’re set. Please, we’ve been in hiding, moving around so they wouldn’t catch us and send us to The Institute.”

“This is serious,” Racket opened the duffle bag then dropped it onto the floor for the teens to inspect, “You need to hold off until reaching the first factory to the south. The noise and sudden commotion will allow us time to locate our target. Are you capable of doing that?”

The girl picked up a gun and ammunition clip loading it with a seriousness born from determination and inner strength, “You can count on us. We ran practices and learned the weak spots.”

Racket nodded for Chester and Henry to drop the bags and they did so, watching the self-possessed teens pick their means of destruction like hungry wolves anticipating a pack kill. They were their only cover and Chester’s stomach tightened in despair but his mind chose not to dwell on the fact they could die for a freedom they had never experienced before now. Even starved, on the run and scared every second of every day, these young adults had more power than their parents or grandparents before them.

“Thank you,” Chester blurted to the girl who quirked an eyebrow in surprise, “What you are doing won’t be forgotten and when this is over, understand there will still be people resistant to change but that doesn’t make them wrong. When told your whole life you’re meant for a single purpose, many will have a hard time transitioning but you are young enough to lead those willing into a better future. Do it with kindness and altruism so others will reconsider how to proceed.”

The girl’s face broke into a broad, pretty grin and the kids that stopped to listen smiled too, “Chester, we will. I will.”

Van giggled, green eyes sparkling up at him with admiration, “In another life, you could have been a great leader. All right, let’s move on to the main event.”

“Good luck!” she chirped before turning to her eager squad.

The Vid Frames showed Lacy standing by in a blacked-out truck a block from the plain-looking two-story house Spell occupied near the center of Neighborhood Allard. She’d wired but hadn’t started the vehicle, waiting for them to play peek-a-boo with the patrolling officers who never once noticed the scurrying figures hugging buildings sometimes mere feet away.

Six men kept guard outside of Spell’s house with semi-automatic weapons and when the group joined Lacy, a high-pitched whine filled the air before an explosion occurred in the south. The kids had perfect timing and the fiery smoke that poured skyward scattered the attention of the goons in the vicinity.

Piling into the truck with Racket behind the wheel Henry drew two grenades, pulled the pins and tossed them out of the window at the officers standing dumbly in the street. Pedal to the metal, she drove straight through the front of the house, causing the structure to crumble like a deck of cards.

Pop and pound!

Chester coughed, sucking in lungfuls of air after the truck stopped, untangling his limbs from Van and Lacy on the floorboard of the back seat. Deven had been the only one to use a seat belt and cursed from the sudden grinding halt and people piled on top of his legs. Henry and Racket were miraculously unharmed, already shoving the doors open to get the jump on the ones inside.

“Fuck,” Chester groaned, every bone in his body hurt, “You guys okay?”

“Get… out!” Lacy wheezed, fumbling with the door, “It’s jammed! Crawl over the front. Hurry!”

“Don’t move!” Chester’s ringing ears heard Racket’s order as he slid clumsily over the middle of the seats, spilling out of the passenger side with the rifle bumping against the twisted metal of the vehicle from the strap around his torso. “Drop your weapons! Hands in the air!”

Chester didn’t wait to watch the women climb out, raising his weapon to survey the interior of the home, or what was left of it. He blinked in disbelief, spotting Fred March’s bloody prone form lying under a structural beam.

One down, he thought to himself before turning to where Gary Spell and two armed men were in a standoff with Racket and Henry. The ceiling was caving in, groaning while sagging from the weight of the upper level but the three stood their ground between ruined furniture and the broken bodies of March and the others.

“You’ve lost!” Henry spat at the tall puppet looking devil holding a .357 between his guards, “This ends today with your blood on my fucking boots.”

“You’re all a bunch of trouble making idiots.” Spell drawled without worry or anger as if it was beneath him to even consider he could die in the next ten seconds. The gun in his hand drifted between them as he continued, “Do you really think this changes anything about how citizens want or need a regulated existence? Everything you are doing is instigated violence against the overall well being of every citizen you people claim to want to save. You’ve essentially killed these poor unsuspecting, hard-working individuals with selfish proclivities. I’ve nearly ended this ridiculous rebellion and after I broadcast your defeated carcasses for the resistance to see, it will be over.”

Henry, Racket, Van, and Lacy formed a line beside Deven and Chester, all pointing their guns at the man rambling like they gave a shit.

“You murder children! You killed my mother!” Van screamed with so much spite and pain in a high pitched voice it took Chester back, “You’ve nowhere to go and it’s been only you who’s used and violated people, Spell! It ends right fucking now you piece of shit!”

Spell’s tight face cracked in a menacing smile as he pointed the gun at Chester and said, “Yes, it does.”

Then the former governor of Ozark State pulled the trigger.