NORMIE [Chapter 7]

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

C.S.M.

Aug 21, 2024

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Here is Chapter 7:

Jack stared down at the mask in his hands. The face of a white rabbit looked back at him, a disinterested expression etched into the face.

“It’s not the most comfortable piece of fashion,” Gideon said. “But it helps spread the message. You get used to wearing it.”

“You really don’t,” Amy added, reclined in her chair in front of the monitors.

Jack removed his bundled coat from under his arm and set it on a nearby table, still holding onto the mask. “So what do we do now?”

Gideon checked his watch. “It’s almost time to head out. You were, ah, asleep for a few hours. The others will be arriving back here soon and then we’ll all take a trip to the People’s House.”

“The light show,” Jack said, pointing to the backpack at Amy’s feet.

“Exactly,” Gideon said. “The plan is to interrupt President Ramsey’s speech. She’ll be spewing her lies and we’ll arrive to spread the truth about what really happened five years ago.”

“And then what?”

“The goal is to establish public will for another election. We need to restore the system, but through peaceful means. People have been afraid to speak out. We’re hoping that our work today will finally give them the courage to go against the regime.”

“Rebecca Stone will be there,” Amy said, leaning forward in her chair. “She’s performing her new song. You look like a big fan, no?”

“Not exactly,” Jack laughed. Was it the first time he’d laughed all day?

“Me neither,” she replied. “Always given off a kind of ‘paid by the regime’ vibe.”

Gideon crossed his arms. “It’s kind of a double-edged sword that she’ll be there. On one hand we have to listen to her music, on the other there will be a lot of people in attendance to hear our message. Expect a big crowd.” He shook his head. “We’re running low on time. Amy, let’s do one final broadcast sweep. Jack, you’re probably starving. Let’s get you some food.”

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Tom Gideon led Jack back through the long room and Amy resumed her work at the monitors. Jack hadn’t realized how hungry he was. The emergency broadcast had interrupted the arrival of the acheta protein bowl he’d ordered at Charlie’s that afternoon. He devoured the few items Gideon provided him: a tin of black beans, two bags of cashews, and a large bottle of water. Gideon explained that The White Rabbits had arrived to the abandoned service station the day before and only brought the amount of food needed for their short stay. They planned to carry out the rest of their plan and then flee the District that night.

As Jack ate, Gideon went through the boxes along the room and got him some more supplies: a backpack filled with thumb drives, a pair of silver capsules (“A type of chloroform spray,” he explained. Developed in-house to fall in line with their non-lethal methods.), and a spray paint can for good measure.

Other White Rabbits began to return to the station. The first came in quietly, appearing from a metal door along the white-brick wall that led to a room Jack assumed used to be an office. Gideon was quick to explain the situation. The White Rabbit didn’t have a combative reaction like Amy, but listened to its leader and nodded solemnly toward Jack.

The reaction was similar for the dozens of White Rabbits who followed, each stepping out of that same metal door and joining the others. They all seemed tired from the day’s tasks. He heard quiet murmurs from across the room, sitting in a chair along the wall as everyone prepared for the final phase of The White Rabbits’ plan.

Amy worked at the monitors, her fingers gliding along the keyboard as she switched through different broadcasts. The commercial for tonight’s 5 Years of Renewal memorial seemed to be playing continuously across the different channels. President Ramsey kept appearing on at least one of the screens, standing proudly in front of a United America flag as she spoke.

“Tonight we reflect on five years since the White House Fire. Howard and his supporters sought to send us backwards through history by destroying a symbol of our democracy. We didn’t let them win, and now stand united as ever against all prevailing threats.”

She lies so easily.

Jack had been bombarded with the commercial for days now, but never expected that he would actually be in attendance for the memorial. An appearance by Rebecca Stone didn’t fire him up like so many others in the District, even if she was going to perform what would likely become United America’s new national anthem. The changes made in the last five years alone almost gave him a sixth-sense about the regime’s future plans.

Jack sipped the remaining water from the large bottle Gideon had given him. He watched Amy work at the monitors from afar.

Who was she?

Combative, sure, but something about her fascinated him. She wasn’t like any of the other women he came into contact with in the District. For one thing, she wasn’t wearing any makeup. Her lips weren’t even painted with the candy-red color that had become so popular in recent years. Not that she needed any makeup. Her natural features were compelling enough to—

Shut up, idiot. You just met her.

He was doing that thing again. Meeting a girl for five minutes and already beginning to envision a life with her. Patrick would call him out if he knew.

Patrick.

Where was he at right now? The last glimpse Jack had of his coworker was leaving the restaurant and seeing him hurrying down the sidewalk back to the office. Jack wondered if Patrick had gone to the authorities after seeing the emergency broadcast. Would he ever see him again?

At the monitors, Amy brushed back a strand of hair from her face.

Stop, stop, stop.

Jack shook his head. She was interesting, though. She must be twenty-five, maybe twenty-six? No more than a few years younger than him. How did she get mixed up in all of this?

“Alright, everyone. Let’s get ready to head out.”

Gideon was standing at the edge of the room in front of the metal door that all the White Rabbits had returned through. Jack must have been daydreaming for a while, as the room was now filled with dozens of White Rabbits. They were refilling their backpacks with thumb drives and bottles of water. The masks were off in the safety of the station. The group was a mix of people of various ages and races, mostly men, but Jack and Amy looked to be among the youngest there. No two outfits were the same, but all were dressed for the cold weather. The number of short-cropped haircuts and tattoo-sleeves signified military experience being a unifying trait.

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Jack stood from his chair and joined the others by Gideon. He expected another explanation of his arrival by the leader, but the group members seemed preoccupied. There was a tense atmosphere in the room. What exactly was waiting for them back on the streets of the District?

“Amy,” Gideon called. “Are we good?”

She give a final click to the mouse and all the monitors went dark. “We’re good. The memorial is going on as planned.”

“Perfect. Let’s head out then. We’ll do a final head count once we’re moving.”

Amy joined the group, finding a place near Jack. She had a backpack at her side, one strap on her shoulder.

“The light show?” Jack whispered.

She patted the side of the backpack. “The light show.”

Gideon stood before the crowd and donned his mask. “Alright, team. Let’s finish this.”

Jack watched in fascination as the dozens in the room each put on their masks. The tense, almost nervous faces, turned into disinterested expressions made of latex. He felt a shove against his shoulder.

“You too,” Amy said, her blue eyes looking at him from behind her mask.

“Oh, right.” He brought the mask to his face and slipped it over his head. The latex snagged against his ears as he situated it properly. He looked out through the eyeholes, able to see clearly enough.

Amy spoke again from his side.

“What?” Jack asked.

She laughed. “I said, I told you it’s hard to hear in these things.”

Luckily, the mask hid Jack’s smile.

“Time to go,” Gideon said, pulling open the metal door beside him. He stepped across the threshold and the group funneled in after him.

Jack and Amy were near the back. She was fiddling with some kind of small tablet kept in the pocket of her flannel, wires hanging from its sides. Jack instantly recognized the layout of the room as he entered. It was identical to the one he had been held captive in only hours ago. The only difference was the huge hole in the back wall, dirt spilling out onto the floor.

With Gideon at the lead, the group crossed through the room and moved into the hole. It was big enough for Jack to walk through, taller members having to crouch down a bit. Wooden planks were fixed vertically along the edges of the dirt walls, and the passage sloped upward.

“Recognize this place?” Amy asked as they moved with the group.

“I’m guessing it leads back to the tunnel. But I don’t think I was awake to see this part.”

“You weren’t,” she said, reading something on the tablet. “It’s been here for a couple years now. It’s our way in and out of the District. You’re heavy, by the way. I had to drag you through here.”

He looked over the line of latex rabbit ears in front of him. The tunnel seemed to lead forever into the darkness, the nearer portions lit by flashlights carried by some of the group members. “All this way?”

“Let’s call it halfway,” she said, eyes still fixed on the tablet. “I eventually gave up and had to get Gideon to help. But, you know, still saved your life and everything.”

Jack held his tongue. It seemed like she enjoyed rubbing that in his face. “I guess I owe you one.”

She glanced up from the tablet. “Like I said, professional oversight.”

After finally trekking through the last stretch of the dirt passage, the group converged in the small chamber where Jack had narrowly made his escape from the incoming train. The damp smell brought the moment back in vivid detail, and he could still hear the drip of water over the near-silence of the group.

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Gideon stood by the thick door that served as the hidden entrance to the passage. Beyond it was the tunnel itself that was part of the District’s underground railway network. He scanned the crowd of nearly identical looking figures in front of him. “Amy? Are we ready?”

“We’re ready,” she answered from the back, fiddling with her tablet. “Sixty seconds.”

Jack listened to the sound of dripping water from somewhere beyond. Sixty seconds until what? He fidgeted with the front of his mask, his breath warm against the latex. A familiar rushing sound began to build from the other side of the chamber’s walls. It transitioned into a shriek, and then suddenly faded with a squeal of breaks.

“Let’s move,” Gideon said.

He wrenched open the thick door at the front of the chamber. Jack had expected to see an empty tunnel through the doorway, but instead there was a train car waiting for them. Its wide open doors perfectly aligned with the opening, allowing the group to funnel directly out of the chamber and board the train. Jack peered along both sides as he entered and saw that while there were other cars attached, theirs was the only one with lights turned on inside. Stepping into the car, he saw that there were no other passengers on board. Only White Rabbits.

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Amy was the last to enter. She pressed a button on her tablet and the doors shut behind her. Then the train started moving forward.

“I’m sensing a question,” she said to Jack.

“Well… yeah.” The train appeared to be like any other he would ride on his daily commute. The only difference, besides the eccentric passengers, were black panels covering the windows from the inside.

“This one is ours,” Amy explained. “It’s how we’re able to get our people around the District.” She pointed to the panels along the windows. “From the outside, it looks like the train is out of service.”

They were now moving at high speed. The White Rabbits were scattered along the car, each seeming to take advantage of a moment of solitude before whatever came next. A larger rabbit wearing an olive-green jacket moved up the aisle and stood next to them.

“You two doing okay?” Gideon asked.

Jack nodded, but quickly stopped once he realized the long ears of his mask were flopping back and forth. “Yeah, doing okay.”

“Good. That’s good. Stay near me once we’re out there. Things could get crazy.”

Amy stepped closer to Gideon and Jack could barely hear her as she whispered. “Are you sure about this?”

“The plan?” Gideon’s head tilted. “Of course I am. It has to be done.”

“No,” she said. “What we’re calling for. Will it really work?”

He rested a hand on her shoulder. “We have to try, kid. We have to try.”

Jack thought he saw her blue eyes turn glassy. “But what if something happens?” She continued speaking before he could answer. “I’ll— I’ll do a final head count.” She stormed down the aisle.

Gideon sighed and turned to Jack. “She’ll never say it, but she’s scared. That’s alright, though. All of us are. Just have to keep moving forward.”

Jack swallowed. What exactly was about to happen? “I meant to ask earlier, but is she your daughter?”

Gideon chuckled from behind the mask. “Sometimes it seems like it. But no, she crossed our path a few years back. Hell of a temper, but she means well. She really has been through a lot.” His voice lowered. “Starting to regret not just trying to get out of the District?”

Jack shook his head. “Would have probably been the smarter choice. Maybe there was a chance I could actually get out. But no. I’m tired of running from them.”

Gideon waited a moment before speaking. “Your dad would be proud.”

Jack tried to answer but couldn’t form any words. Luckily, Amy returned from the other end of the car.

“I’ve got the final numbers,” she said, her blue eyes downcast from behind the mask. “We’re, umm, we’re missing a total of eight.”

Gideon’s hands balled into fists. “It was seven earlier. Who’s the addition?”

“Brennan.”

Jack’s mind reeled back to that morning. “Black hoodie?”

“Yep,” she said. “No one’s seen him .”

The scene from that morning played out before Jack’s eyes. Brennan was the name of the White Rabbit that had interrupted his normal morning commute. He’d been the one who had left behind the thumb drive that Jack had picked up.

“If he hasn’t checked in and no one has seen him, does that mean…?”

“We never know for sure,” Amy said. “Hopefully he just got caught up somewhere and couldn’t make it back to HQ. Maybe he’ll meet up with us out there.”

Gideon’s eyes were closed and he was muttering something under his breath. It sounded like a prayer. Jack and Amy stood in silence until he finished. He cleared his throat. “We can’t lose anyone else. How much longer until we arrive?”

Amy checked her tablet. “Four minutes.”

“Alright, almost time.” Gideon stepped to the center of the car and raised his voice. “Get ready, everyone. We’re close.”

The train continued through the District’s railway network. The black panels along the car’s windows concealed the group from outside eyes. Gideon was now positioned by the doors they had entered through, with others beginning to converge nearby. Jack took deliberate breaths and savored the final moments of the journey. What would happen next, he didn’t know.

Amy was monitoring her tablet. “One minute,” she called out.

Gideon spoke to the entire gathering. “Stay on me when we’re out there. Form a line as we go through the District. We’ve been monitoring security footage all day and it’s looking like we won’t be alone for the rest of the night. People are starting to wake up.”

Jack thought back to the footage that Amy had pulled up on the monitors back at the abandoned service station. Normal citizens like himself had seen the White Rabbit graffiti, some even taking left-behind thumb drives, and were starting to understand the prevalent lies of the regime. He remembered seeing Never Forget 11/7 posters and graphics being torn down. Would people really join them in their protest? He remembered Gideon’s words from a different era: “The revolution will not be televised.” He’d have to see how things played out with his own eyes.

“Approaching!” Amy shouted, still holding the tablet.

Gideon’s eyes were closed again at the head of the group. He stood out in his olive-green bomber jacket in a sea of figures wearing identical masks. The rushing of the train began to dissipate. The squeal of breaks began to register in the space and the train slowed down. Then they stopped moving. In front of Gideon, the doors of the train shot open.

They had arrived at their destination. A busy platform could be seen clearly through the train’s open doors. Gideon stepped into the platform and was followed by the dozens of White Rabbit members. Jack and Amy were the last to exit. Amy pressed a final series of buttons on her tablet: the doors closed behind them and the train continued along the track. All the windows of the connected cars were dark, the train appearing to be out of service. She pocketed the tablet into her backpack.

Shocked faces stared back at them as they crossed through the train station. Jack recognized the place, but it was not a stop on his typical commute. A sign along the platform identified it as People’s Station; they were in the heart of the district. A Never Forget 11/7 hung lazily from the ceiling, and the concrete floor they trotted over seemed recently cleaned. One of the White Rabbits had clearly tagged the place with graffiti sometime throughout the day.

The group marched across the platform and continued toward the escalators in the back that led up to the street. The shock of the surrounding crowds began to die away, but fascination remained. It wasn’t like earlier in the day when people had tried to ignore any sign left by The White Rabbits. Most now seemed interested, not feigning distraction as Jack had witnessed first hand.

They passed over the turnstiles and moved forward to the escalators. Standing on the gliding steps, Jack thought he saw someone in a green tie looking up at him from the platform. He adjusted his mask, still not used to the tight latex against his face, and was the among the last of the group to arrive at the street.

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Night had fallen completely. A half moon shone dimly in the sky above, clouds sweeping past it. It was much colder outside than Jack remembered it being, frigid air flowing through the eyeholes of his mask. Gideon waited near the sidewalk as the group converged around him. The People’s Lawn, formerly the National Mall, was framed behind him, monuments lit up in the darkness. There was a loud roar from somewhere beyond. Jack realized instantly that it was the crowd already gathered at the People’s House for tonight’s 5 Years of Renewal memorial.

“Looks like that’s everyone,” Gideon said, scanning the group. “Let’s get into position. It’s time to start.”

Two White Rabbits moved to stand beside him, each carrying a backpack with large speakers fastened to the front. Gideon removed a microphone from his jacket pocket. He spotted Amy and Jack in the group and motioned them to him.

“You two stay on me, remember?” He said as they approached.

“Yes, sir,” Amy replied. Jack noted that there was no sign of sarcasm in her response. It was one of the few times he’d heard her be completely serious since meeting.

“Now let’s get started.”

Gideon flipped a switch on the microphone in his hand and an electric buzz rattled from the two speakers nearby. He brought the microphone to the front of his mask and began speaking.

“You are being lied to,” he said into the microphone, his strong, gravely voice registering across the city block. Streams of people were moving around them, with People’s Station being such a busy transportation site.

“The people in power are lying to you. It’s been five years since their favorite lie was created, and its impact has been a disaster for our nation.”

Several White Rabbits from the group began moving along the sidewalk, handing thumb drives to willing recipients or otherwise tossing them onto the concrete.

“We’ve been working to share the truth. Nathan Howard didn’t start the White House Fire. It was a setup by the regime. A false flag. A lie. And they’ve used this lie to transform all of our institutions, for the worse. But we don’t have to stand for it anymore.”

Jack realized that the gathered group had grown larger. It wasn’t only White Rabbits listening to Gideon speak, passing citizens were stopping to listen.

“We want peace. We want to really give power back to the people. We’re calling for a new election. As you know, last year’s election was cancelled due to so-called extenuating circumstances. There have been no plans for another election since. Yet they constantly comment on the strength of our so-called democracy.

“The election that occurred five years ago between President Ramsey and Governor Howard was highly disputed, for fair reasons. The incumbent Ramsey started corrupting our voting process from the very start of her first term. She threw open our borders and tens of millions illegally flowed into our country. She claimed they were searching for a better life, and most were, but she didn’t really care about their wellbeing. She wanted their votes.

“That’s why she signed Executive Order 23441 only months before the election. It directly violated our Constitution. The executive branch assumed total control over our elections, and they made one major change. You no longer needed to be a citizen to vote.

“Executive Order 23442 was signed the same day. This created the New Arrival Assistance Program that promised housing, jobs, education, and healthcare to those who had flowed across the border. It was an empty promise. Despite securing an electoral win under the new rules, the Assistance Program never went into full effect. Ramsey got the votes she needed and turned her back. Now many of the new arrivals, who were promised a bright future, are left behind on the streets of our cities to live in tents and beg for money. She only cared about herself.

“President Ramsey has corrupted our system in her own lust for power. And she has no plans of relinquishing that power. It’s time for a new election so we can vote to take our country back, peacefully. The election must adhere to the rules of the Constitution of the United States of America. If we are really a democracy, we must follow the will of the people. The government works for us. We don’t submit to them.”

Jack was shocked to hear clapping break out from behind him. He turned around and saw that even more people had stopped to listen.

“You’ve suspected the truth about how things happened five years ago. The White House Fire was a false flag incident used to consolidate power. Ramsey and her administration took advantage of the manufactured crisis to silence all dissenting voices.

“I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to be afraid. There’s strength in numbers and it’s time for all of us to make a stand. Join us as we walk to the People’s House and demand peaceful change.”

Gideon brought the microphone down from his face and looked back at the gathered crowd. Any sign of fear or apprehension Jack might have noticed on the train seemed to have faded. Gideon was strong. He raised a hand and began leading the crowd toward the People’s Lawn behind him.

Jack and Amy followed closely, with only the two White Rabbits carrying the speakers between them and Gideon. The rest of the White Rabbits trailed behind in a line. Beyond them, a sea of regular people were following.

Gideon continued to speak into the microphone as everyone entered the People’s Lawn. The grass was dull and beaten in the winter weather. It was a place of solitude compared with the busy metro station and sidewalk that they had come from.

“It’s time to wake up. It’s time to accept the truth that you’ve always known.”

Unlike other patches of nature in the District, this one wasn’t overtaken by tents. No, not in the heart of the District itself. The space needed to be somewhat taken care of to ensure suitable photo opportunities. The outline of figures could be seen across the grass, with the sole light shining from monuments in the distance. The People’s House was far ahead of them, but the sound of the crowd carried all the way to their ears.

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“They have been lying to you. They do not stand for democracy. They don’t care about you. They are destroyers. We demand another election. A transparent election.”

Jack checked behind again and saw more people had joined the protest. He turned to Amy beside him. “People are following us. They’re really waking up.”

Amy didn’t answer, but kept her gaze trained ahead.

“What’s wrong?” Jack asked. “It’s working.”

“I’m just not sure about this,” she said. “Can you really vote your way out of tyranny?”

The question echoed inside Jack’s mind, but he didn’t have a chance to respond. The group had continued through the People’s Lawn and was now in an open plot of land. Bright monuments stood in the distance, with the People’s House far ahead. Alongside the lawn, a van steered off the road and began driving toward them on the grass, its headlights cutting through the night.

“What is that?” Jack asked.

Amy didn’t answer.

The van was nearing the group, signaling its headlights on and off. Its approach wasn’t head-on toward the line of protesters, but curved and was moving alongside. The unmarked vehicle then completed a full turn, the double doors of the trunk positioned toward the front of the line. The headlights switched off, and the darkness of the lawn became eerily apparent.

Gideon spoke into the microphone: “Stay calm, everyone.”

Despite a crowd of now more than one hundred people, Jack could only hear the roar of the November wind.

The passenger door of the van opened and a dark figure stepped out. The outline of his body was barely visible, but the shape was unmistakable. Whoever it was, they were wearing a white rabbit mask. Stepping closer, Jack could clearly see a black hoodie draped over its frame.

“Brennan?” Amy whispered. “He’s okay.”

Thought to be missing, the White Rabbit that Jack had originally encountered that morning now appeared before them.

The microphone picked up Gideon’s soft chuckles. “Brennan! Better late than never. Come join us, brother.”

Brennan, his hands buried into the front pocket of his hoodie, made his way to the front of the line to join the others.

It was only as he was a few steps away that Jack noticed the blood stains across the dark hoodie. The sleeves were bundled up awkwardly along his upper arms, easily falling past his wrists if pushed to full length. That wasn’t the man he saw this morning.

That’s not Brennan.

Reaching the front of the line, whoever was under the mask removed a handgun from its front pocket and aimed it at Gideon.

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