NORMIE [Chapter 6]

The sixth chapter of NORMIE, a novel by C.S.M.

C.S.M.

Aug 14, 2024

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Here is Chapter 6:

Jack was shaking. His body was still tied firmly to the plastic chair. Two cardboard boxes sat still by his feet, one piled with thumb drives and the other with latex white rabbit masks. His eyes were beginning to adjust to the overhead lights. The bare white brick walls of the windowless room gave it an almost clinical atmosphere.

Standing behind a flimsy plastic table, the White Rabbit looked back at him. The disinterested expression etched into the mask concealed any emotion, but his voice had taken on a more personal tone. Jack still couldn’t comprehend the figure’s change in size from their short encounter in the hidden chamber along the metro tunnel. The White Rabbit appeared before him now with a hulking build, filling out the olive-green jacket he wore.

Jack struggled to speak. “What—? Who are you—?”

“Come on, kid. You’ve seen me before.”

The White Rabbit pulled off his mask. A thick bald head was revealed and a dense brown and grey beard covered the face. Deep scars ran down both cheeks.

Jack studied the man, but couldn’t recall any memory of him. “Where have I seen you..?”

“You said you went through the drive, right? Well, it has been five years, but I don’t think I’ve let myself go that much.” He patted the top of his head. “Did finally shave off the rest of the hair, though.”

Jack searched his mind and recalled the video he’d watched that morning. He saw Nathan Howard held at gunpoint alongside his family and the small security detail. Howard was shot, then the family, then each security team member. The last victim was his own father, wearing the green tie Jack had given him for Christmas. His mind reeled to the man shot just before his father.

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“You were there?” Jack said. “You worked with my father?”

“That’s right, kid.”

The images replayed in Jack’s mind. He saw a gun brought up to the large man’s face and heard the crack of the bullet firing from the chamber.

“But you died,” he said. “I saw the footage on the drive. They shot you!”

“That they did. Hurt like hell, too. Call it nine lives, call it providence, but somehow it didn’t kill me.” The man pointed to the scars on both cheeks, the site of the bullet’s entrance and exit. “Definitely left a mark though. I woke up a bit later, must have only been minutes, and the place was already up in flames. I checked the bodies before I crawled out.” He paused. “There was no helping them, they were all gone. Every one of them.”

Jack looked away from the man and felt tears welling at his eyes. He coughed and then tried to continue speaking. “So you knew my father well? You worked with him?”

“Sure, we worked together. But I’d call him a friend. Who do you think got him to retire from the military and move into the private sector?”

Jack shuddered.

The man’s face turned red. “When I say it like, it sounds terrible. But we really believed in Howard. Did a hell of a job as Kansas governor. We thought he was the best chance we had of keeping the country at peace. Didn’t have any clue how desperate they’d be to keep him out of the White House.”

Jack nodded. He fought the resentment building in him, knowing that the man was right. There was no way he could’ve known how things would pan out. His father had been so excited about working for Howard.

“And I was sorry to hear about your mother. Lost my Macy to cancer a couple years before all this went down. I’m sure things would’ve gone the same way if she’d been in the same position.”

Jack choked back tears. His mother had never been the same since the fallout of November seventh. Like Jack, she’d turned to the bottle. Only in a much stronger way.

“It’s been terrible,” Jack muttered.

The man nodded and spoke softly. “They murdered all those people and then set the place on fire.” Anger broke across his face. “And they’ve got the guts say that we—” He paused a moment and unclenched his fists. “They told their stories, but now it’s time for us to tell the truth.” He removed a small pocket knife from his jacket and bounded toward Jack. The overhead lights danced across the mangled tissue of his scared cheeks. With quick precision, he sliced through the ropes that tied Jack to the chair.

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Jack stretched his limbs out and rubbed the red skin of his wrists. His entire body ached.

“Sorry about all that,” the man said. “We really thought you were after us.”

Jack glanced at the box of white rabbit masks at his feet. “I still don’t understand. Who are you?”

“Apologies, apologies. My name’s Tom Gideon. Your dad always just called me Gideon.” He offered a hand to Jack.

Jack leaned forward in the chair and shook the man’s hand.

“It seems like there’s a lot of explaining to do,” Gideon continued. “Your version of events doesn’t line up with what’s really been happening out there.” He pointed to the boxes around the room. “There isn’t just one thumb drive. And I’m not alone in this mission. There are dozens of us causing a stir around the District today. We’re getting the truth out— waking people up.”

Jack’s head felt like it was about to explode, events earlier reformatting in his mind. He’d seen multiple graffiti symbols throughout the day, but assumed that they were all done by one person. The emergency broadcast had made it seem like he held the only thumb drive.

“I still don’t understand,” he said, wiping his face with the collar of his button down shirt.

“I’ll fill you in with the details,” Gideon said. “Let’s get out of here.” He grabbed Jack’s belonging from the plastic table and handed them over.

Jack stood on wobbly legs and put the small items into his pockets, then bundled his coat under his arm. “Where are we?”

Gideon stood by the door at the edge of the room. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Running through the metro tunnel. The train was on my heels and then a door opened along the side. I dove in and rolled through a bunch of dirt. Not much after that. You were there though.” Jack shuddered. “I guess you saved my life.”

Gideon had a hand on the door knob. “That wasn’t me, kid. Glad she did though.” He opened the door. “Come on. We’re losing time.”

Jack followed Gideon through the door and was met with another dim room. It was almost identical in design to the room they had emerged from, windowless with white brick walls, but much larger. Maybe his eyes were still adjusting from the time spent in darkness, but the room seemed to go on forever. Metal doors were placed along the walls, probably leading to smaller rooms like the one he’d been held in. Plastic tables lined the middle of the space, with cardboard boxes stacked on top.

“Recognize any of this stuff?” Gideon pointed to the boxes as they passed along the tables.

“Definitely.” The boxes were filled with thumb drives, silver capsules, white rabbit masks, and spray paint cans. “So, where are we?”

“Abandoned service station. But we made our own way in and out. No one knows we’re here. That’s why we were pretty spooked when you came chasing us.” Gideon pointed to the far corner of the cavernous room. “I want you to meet someone.”

Shrouded in near-darkness, a grouping of plastic tables in the far corner housed a series of computer monitors linked together. Various television broadcasts were being played on the different screens: Bradley Davenport interviewing the District police commissioner, a commercial for acheta-honey protein bars, a weather report detailing conditions for tonight’s 5 Years of Renewal memorial. A figure wearing a thick flannel and headphones sat at the monitors, facing away from them.

“Amy!” Gideon called from a few steps away.

Facing the monitors in a plastic chair, she turned her head and slowly removed a pair of headphones, allowing them to fall around her neck. At the sight of Jack, she reached for a nearby pen and held it up in aggression.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Gideon said, raising his hands. “Take a breath. Everything’s fine. It was all a misunderstanding.”

The girl glared at Jack, the pen still held in her hand like a weapon. Her blue eyes were wide and she was breathing quickly. Blonde hair fell onto the shoulders of her thick flannel.

“Fine?” She said through clenched teeth. “Everything’s fine?”

“Take it easy, kid.” Gideon slowly reached for the pen. “He’s not after us. We’re all on the same side.”

She recoiled. “He works for them. He was trying to find us.”

Jack took a step back. “It was a misunderstanding. I wanted to return your thumb drive.”

Gideon finally grabbed the pen and tossed it onto a table in the distance. “I knew his father. He was a good friend of mine, alright? We worked together on Howard’s detail. We were both there that night.”

Amy’s breathing began to steady. “You’re serious?”

“Of course I am,” Gideon said.

Jack watched her eyes dart back and forth as Gideon continued to explain. She appeared to be only a couple years younger than him, somewhere around her mid-twenties. There was no sign of makeup, no hint of added color to her lips, but she had a natural attractiveness that made his heart beat a little faster.

“I’m here to help,” Jack said, hoping to break the tension. “My name’s Jack.” He reached out a hand.

Amy looked at the hand and rolled her eyes.

Gideon chuckled, crossing his arms. “Don’t take it personally, Jack. Amy has trouble making friends. Poor girl has been through a lot.”

Amy tore the headphones from around her neck and slammed them onto the table. “You’re telling him our real names?”

“Easy, easy,” Gideon said. “We don’t have time for all this. Old Jack here got his hands on one of our drive’s this morning. He already had our view of how things went down five years ago, the files only confirmed it. Unfortunately for him, he thought the drive he had was the only one. Sent him scrambling after the first White Rabbit he saw. Nearly got him flattened by a train, too, the poor bastard. No offense, Jack.”

“None taken,” Jack said, scratching his head. He was still making sense of all that had happened today. “And, uhh, Amy… thanks for saving my life back there. In the tunnel.”

“Professional oversight,” she said, turning back to the computer monitors. She continued sarcastically: “But I’m glad everything’s worked out so perfectly.”

“That’s the spirit,” Gideon said, looking at Jack and shaking his head. “Jack meet Amy. Amy meet Jack. Now that we’ve gotten introductions out of the way, let’s fill our new friend in on what’s happening.”

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Amy’s fingers clicked against the computer keyboard. “Crafton was due for a check-in twenty minutes ago. Haven’t heard from him.”

“Damn it.” Gideon shook his head. “How many is that now?”

“Seven,” she answered.

“11/7. How poetic.”

“Sorry,” Jack said, looking around the room. “But how many what?”

Amy sighed. “Missing.” Her fingers froze above the keyboard. “There are dozens from our group going around the city. Tagging graffiti, leaving thumb drives behind, trying to wake people up. Some don’t come back.” The clicking resumed.

Gideon cleared his throat. “Amy here is our computer wizard. She’s monitoring multiple feeds while the others are out, keeping track of all the locations we wanna hit before tonight. We had a member lose contact and needed someone to hit some more places near Liberty Station.”

Amy turned to Jack and gave a toothy smile. “And that’s how I had the special privilege of crossing your path.”

The headache brought on by the morning’s hangover suddenly returned. “Thanks again.”

She threw a cluster of her blonde hair behind her shoulder and returned to the computer monitors.

“You probably didn’t expect her to steer down a train tunnel,” Gideon said. “But that’s where the entrance to this place is. There’s no cameras in the tunnels and the door is hidden well. Haven’t had any other wanderers yet.”

“Didn’t you hear me while I was chasing you?” Jack asked. “I was shouting about the drive.”

The clicking of the keyboard continued. “Those masks are terrible. You can barely hear anything.”

“So who did I see this morning at Becker Station? They were wearing a black hoodie.”

“Black hoodie?” Gideon said. “That’s gotta be Brennan.”

Amy glared at Gideon from her chair. “You’re absolutely sure we can trust him with all this?”

He answered softly, but direct. “It’s okay, Amy. We can trust him.”

Jack felt his eyes sting. He tried to keep the conversation moving. “They have footage of me and this Brennan guy from this morning. It was in the emergency broadcast that played while I was at lunch.”

Amy moved the cursor across the screens. “Where did you have lunch?”

“At a restaurant. Charlie’s, it’s nearby.”

She typed across the keyboard and the image on a monitor changed. “This it?”

The emergency broadcast from earlier began playing. Bradley Davenport spoke over security footage from the train station.

“Yeah, that’s it. It started playing on every screen in the room. I had to get out of there. They said anyone who saw me but didn’t turn me in would be considered an accomplice. Did you see the broadcast as it happened?”

Gideon and Amy glanced at each other.

“Listen, Jack,” Gideon began. “The greatest power the regime has is controlling what we see on all these screens. They can basically form reality into anyway they want.”

Amy fingers glided across the keyboard. “I’m pulling them up.” She gave a final tap to the enter key. “They’ve been keeping AI Davenport busy.”

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The computer monitors all changed screens at once. The previously shown television programs were replaced by emergency broadcasts. Bradley Davenport spoke directly into the camera for all of them, but the suspect in question was different for each. Security footage varied from the insides of office lobbies to city sidewalks. In each broadcast, a nearby onlooker who had picked up a thumb drive or lingered too long near graffiti was accused of being connected to Howard and his supporters. Anyone who knew the location of the accused and didn’t notify authorities would be considered accomplices.

Jack looked back and forth from the monitors. “I— But I didn’t see any of these—”

“The revolution will not be televised. That’s a line from a bit before your time. The emergency broadcast you saw was localized to your location. They wanted to scare anyone nearby without alerting too much of the city that there was any dissent. Like I said, the regime has lots of power. They want to scare everyone into silence, but hide the fact that people are actually waking up. Amy, can you show him?”

“Pulling it up now,” she said, her fingers punching the keys.

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The computer monitors changed again. The emergency broadcasts were replaced by security camera footage around the District. Individuals at different locations were tearing down Never Forget 11/7 posters and banners.

“Is this from today?” Jack asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Gideon said. “It’s all happening out there as we speak. They won’t show it, but people are starting to understand. The truth isn’t hard to find, you just have to willing to fall down a rabbit hole.”

“So it’s working?” Jack asked.

“Seems to be,” Gideon said. “But we won’t know for sure until tonight.”

“What’s tonight?”

Amy typed something onto the keyboard and the screens changed again. They all showed the same commercial: “Tonight, a special presentation: 5 Years of Renewal. President Ramsey addresses the nation.”

Jack’s mind raced. “The memorial?”

“Yep,” Gideon said. “That’s what this all leads to. We’re going to all make a stand tonight. Peacefully. It’s time to demand change before it’s too late. We can’t keep living in lies.”

Jack studied the monitors, all showing the same commercial he’d seen playing throughout the day. “What do you mean before it’s too late?”

“Like I said, they control the narrative with these screens. The internet is a joke. The browsers won’t even show non-approved websites. Half the accounts aren’t even real people, they’re bots programmed to support the regime. That’s why we have to leave behind tactile thumb drives. But things are getting crazy out west. People want blood. They want change by any means necessary. We’ve got to try and make change peacefully.”

Amy held up a peace sign and blinked repeatedly.

Gideon shook his head. “We have to try, kid. We have to try. The alternative would be horrific for everyone.”

“So then what happens tonight?” Jack said.

“The light show, kid. The light show.”

Amy pointed to a backpack at her feet. “While Madam President speaks, we’ll be supplying some additional entertainment. Something even the normies there will be able to understand.”

“The others working with us will regroup here before nightfall.” Gideon grabbed a box from a nearby table. “And the offer still stands.”

The box hovered before Jack. It was filled with crisp, new white rabbit masks.

“It’s up to you, kid. We can try to help you get out of the District. If you’re lucky, you might be able to make it. Or you can join us.”

Jack’s head was spinning. “You keep saying us. But I still don’t really know who you are.”

Gideon chuckled. “Isn’t the branding obvious enough? We call ourselves The White Rabbits.”

“I thought it was a little on-the-nose also,” Amy chimed in. “A bit too ‘Alice in Wonderland.’ But Gideon’s the boss, so what can you do?”

Gideon continued: “We operate mostly out west, trying to share the truth. We’ve been planning today’s operation for the last year. If this is all too much, I completely understand. But at the end of the day, it’s up to you.”

Jack looked around the room. He wished it was all a dream, but the aches in his body confirmed that he was wide awake. He thought about trying to get out of the city. Could he really make it out west?

There was definitely a chance.

But he moved past the thought. He watched the movie replay in his mind: Howard held at gunpoint, shots firing in the ornate room, a green tie soaked with blood.

Even if he could make it out of the District, what would be the point? He finally knew the truth. Knew it wholeheartedly. It was time to stop running from it.

He reached into the box and withdrew a white rabbit mask.

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