“Everyone needs to remain calm,” Bryan instructed, his features smooth and neutral. “As long as you remain calm, listen, and follow the rules…”

A commotion got my attention.  A senior I knew by sight, but not by name, shoved a guard from behind and dashed towards the door.  A quick signal from Bryan and a soldier stepped forward and took aim.

Bang!

Frozen mid-step, the boy’s face appeared surprised then he crumpled to the ground.  People screamed.  I struggled against Kukri’s hold.  Someone had to help that boy.

“It’s too late,” Kukri whispered. “Stop moving.”

A few students stood to run to the fallen boy, but soldiers stopped them.  A soldier I didn’t know picked the boy up, cradling him like a child, and left the cafeteria. Silence blanketed the room, disturbed only by a few stifled sobs. Slow tears trickled down my cheeks to Kukri’s hand.  Snorting in disgust, Kukri shook me a little.

“Why are you crying? You didn’t even know him,” he grumbled.

How could I explain to him that I cried because I had never seen someone killed before?  That even though I hadn’t known the boy, I still felt the loss since he was just a kid like me? With Kukri’s hand over my mouth, I didn’t have the chance to even try.

“Would anyone else like to try?” Bryan asked the silent crowd.

No one stirred.

“Good.  You will have discovered by now that your cellphones, pads, and so on do not work.  Our technology-savvy members have created a complete signal block.  Nothing will get through it, so stop trying.”

Several faces fell as their hands dropped to their sides.  They obviously had been trying to message or call for help.

“Those of you videotaping will also realize that it is useless.  When we are done a pulse will be sent through the school erasing and resetting all devices.”

More looks of disappointment appeared.  It seemed the Reformers had thought of everything.  Damn them.

“How about we get down to business?” Bryan smiled. “We are a small portion of the Reformer Army.  We are claiming your school for our cause.  Now you need not worry.  We are not going to change how your school is run.  We are merely going to supervise and train those who wish to join us.

“The Reformer Army respects and values education.  One reason we have chosen your school is because it is one of the top producers of successful, independent thinkers.  We wish to encourage this and provide opportunities for you to cut free from the world the American government has chosen for you.  You are young and see the world through fresh eyes.  You see the continual injustice and suppression by the government.  You see how they have molded your parents into the American Dream.  Yet with us, you will be free of that tired cliché and able to create a new dream for this country.

“Now I know our methods are aggressive and you can’t trust us yet, but given time I know you will see we are honest and earnest.  We will not lie to you.  However, we expect the same respect.  We are trusting you with the secrecy of our army. You must keep our secret.  Those of you who don’t will be treated as enemies.  Enemies suffer the ultimate punishment.”

Pausing for effect, Bryan stared out at the crowd.

“Reform is not easy.  Reform is not clean and neat.  Blood will be spilled and lives will be lost.  But lives were lost to found this once great country.  Yet it is up to us to make sure it is the lives of those who suppress us!”

Soldiers cheered, raising their guns in the air.  None of us non-soldiers made a sound.  Waving his hands for silence, Bryan stood proudly.  Soldiers walked on stage, leading struggling people.  I recognized the captives as our police and military representatives that taught ROTC and managed security. They were bound and gagged, but they could see.  Their eyes were wild with fear or anger, varying per person.  A total of five stood on the stage. 

“These men and women represent the old way,” Bryan announced. “The ones who send boys to fight wars of the government.  The ones who use the law to abuse minorities.  They are the ones we are overthrowing.”

Another quick hand signal from Bryan and soldiers on stage took aim and fired.  All five of my teachers and mentors collapsed to the floor. Many of the ROTC students cried out “No!” and loud crying reached my ears.  I too cried. 

“Save those tears,” Kukri murmured in my ear viciously.  “You will need them for yourself soon enough.”

“What?” I said, my words muffled by his hand.

“Now for volunteers,” Bryan said clearly.

Another signal.  Heading forward, Kukri dragged me along behind him.  He strode towards the stage purposefully, where the soldiers all waited with guns.  Panic crept into my chest then up my neck.  Digging my heels in, I pulled back.  I knew he was taking me to the stage.  I didn’t want to go on the stage.  I didn’t want to die.

“No,” I gasped softly at first.

Everyone’s eyes turned to me.  Yanking hard, Kukri caused me to stumble.  Rather than cooperating, I pulled harder in the opposite direction.  My voice grew louder as we drew closer to the stage.

“No!” I finally screamed, terror making my words shake. “No! No!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw people covering their mouths in horror.  Summer, who had been placed with Peter, Maria, and Kristy, grabbed Peter and pressed his face into her stomach.  Peter tried to worm free to see me.  Blind panic consumed me. I could only see the stage and the guns waiting there.  Continuing to scream “no” I dug my heels in harder.  Nothing I did stopped Kukri.  Someone called out my name.  The person sounded as scared as I felt. 

“No!”  Maria cried, her voice ringing in my ear.

“Shut up!” a soldier told her. 

“Eri!” Kristy wailed.

“I said shut up!”

Wild-eyed, I tossed my head around, searching for help.  Arkon appeared next to Summer and Peter, shielding them from seeing me.  Summer grabbed his arm and hung on, begging him quietly.  His mouth was grim but set.  Tears poured down Summer’s face as she clutched Peter to her.  For a long moment, I felt as if I was seeing the world from outside of my body like it was a movie. 

About halfway through the cafeteria, Kukri lost patience.  Turning on me, Kukri grabbed my wrists in his hand and tossed me over his shoulder.  Slamming into his broad shoulder, I cried out in pain from the impact on my already bruised ribs.  Briskly, Kukri strode to the stage as I hit and kicked his back, still screaming.  Ruben approached Kukri on the stage, but Kukri gave Ruben the smallest of headshakes.  Frowning, Ruben backed away and Kukri took center stage next to Bryan.  Tossing me to the ground, Kukri held his belt like a leash and I was the dog. 

Hundreds upon hundreds of eyes stared at me, glittering in the overhead lights.  Numb, I could only cry and shake.  I forgot I wore only pants and a bra.  I forgot that I was supposed to be brave for Peter and Summer.  I forgot that I had pride.  All I knew was that I was scared and didn’t want to die.

“Our lovely volunteer, Eri Lee, ladies and gentleman,” Bryan said sounding like a game show host.  “She is beautiful. Is she not? So exotic with blonde hair, blue eyes, and dark honey-colored skin, a perfect mutt, not to mention young, intelligent, independent, and loyal.  Everything that America represents.  And yet she hides secrets.”

Jerking me up, Kukri slipped an arm around my neck and a knife pressed to my throat.  Barely daring to breathe, I stayed as still as possible as Kukri forced my body to stretch out.  Under the spotlight of the stage, everyone could see my battered body.

“She is abused, secretly, quietly.  And while she fights and tries to defend herself, she can only do so much.  The abuser is stronger than her, meaner than her, greedier, and more selfish than her.  She is too honest to think the way her abuser does and it costs her.  See the vivid purples and healing greens of her wounds.”

Bryan indicated Ramiro’s bruises as well as the ones made by the Reformers.

“How many thought they knew Eri?  Thought she was just the girl next door?  How many noticed the bruises and pain she has been suffering? I am guessing few to none because she puts on a brave face and by all appearances is the normal American girl.”

Forcing my head up higher, Kukri dragged the knife along my throat, pressing the sharp blade into my flesh.  A desperate cry slipped from my lips.  Audible gasps reached my ears as a small trickle of blood ran down my throat.

“Can you see the injustice that has befallen Eri?  Can you see her as a surrogate America?  Shall you abandon her as the police and military have?  None noticed or spoke up about her abuse.  They allowed her to suffer!  They allow America to suffer!  Will you allow Eri and America to suffer?  Or will you stand with us and save her?  Save America?”

The questions hung in the air.  Bryan held his hands out as if inviting people to take them.

“No one?  No one has the heart and pride to step up and do what’s right?  Would you prefer this to end?  Remove Eri’s bruised and bleeding body from the stage?”

Soft murmuring filtered through the crowd.  Shaking his head in disappointment, Bryan looked like his heart broke.

“Sad. My heart is sad for you, lost youths.  I weep for Eri whom you abandon.  I weep for America.  If none have the stomach to stand and fight, then we will just end the suffering for Eri and America.”

Turning part way, Bryan drew his hand across his throat. Summer, Kristy, Maria, Peter, and a few other people yelled “No!” or “Eri!”  Personally, I began to fight Kukri’s hold, screaming again.  In an effort to control me, Kukri press the knife harder against me.  Between his pressure and my jerking around, the knife cut deeper, not hitting anything vital, but drawing a good amount of blood.  Frustrated, Kukri slid me off the knife and threw me to the ground, face first. Smashing to the stage floor, the air flew out of me. The heel of Kukri’s boot slammed between my shoulder blades, on my spine.  Taking the gun from a nearby soldier, Kukri aimed and fired. Hot pain seared my neck. Burnt flesh and blood wafted to my nose.

Not daring to move, I felt every inch of my body mentally.  I was alive.  Blistering pain in my neck confirmed it.  Taking a shuddering breath, I opened my eyes to see a group of ten, mostly men, standing in lanes between groups.  My Spanish teacher, Mr. Gutierrez, and a boy named Günter headed the group, their faces pale. David and a few of his friends stood behind Mr. Gutierrez and Günter, Ramiro included.  Some girls I knew by sight stood among the boys.

When they saw me blink and struggle again, the group of volunteers let out a unison breath.

“Don’t,” the boy named Günter begged.  “Don’t kill her.  I volunteer!”

“Please, this is enough,” Mr. Gutierrez begged. “She…they are just children.”

“I am glad to see someone from my generation is not a coward,” Bryan said respectfully to Mr. Gutierrez.  The look he gave the remaining faculty was scathing.

“Do you all volunteer freely to assist in our efforts?” Bryan asked the brave group.

They chorused yes.  Crying I shook my head.

“Don’t!” I cried.

Kukri’s heel silenced me.

“I appreciate your valor and commitment to your fellow man and America,” Bryan commended the volunteers. “You will be honored.”

Nodding, Bryan signaled for the volunteers to be led away.  A heavy silence filled the cafeteria as the volunteers marched away.  In a million years I couldn’t repay their bravery for my sake.  Bryan talked for a while longer, although I couldn’t focus anymore. My body drained of adrenaline and blood loss made me weak. Two more groups of volunteers were collected then the student body and teachers were excused.  Roughly Kukri picked me up and escorted me down to the cafeteria floor, our backs pressed against the stage.  Holding my upper arm, Kukri placed us so that everyone filing out walked by us.

After a few minutes, something slammed into my slide.  Grinding my teeth against the pain, I looked down and found Peter clutching my waist, tears pouring down his face.  Hugging him one-armed, I smiled weakly. My focus faded in and out as Kristy, Maria, and Summer jogged up.  All my friends’ eyes shone red, their faces puffy. 

“Keep moving,” a soldier barked. “Rest of the day will be as normal schedule. Get to your scheduled classes.

“Peter,” Summer whispered gently to my brother. “We have to go.”

“No!” he wailed, grasping me tighter.

Eyes rolling in my head, the pain felt like lightening in my side.  Carefully, Summer pulled on Peter. 

“Get him off her,” Kukri ordered. “Or I will get him off her.”

His threat caused Maria and Kristy to jump into action. They cooed and tugged on Peter with Summer, trying to coax him to let go.  Wailing, Peter only held on tighter.  Losing his temper, Kukri started wrenching me away, pulling my arm hard enough to make me yelp. 

“Stop hurting her!” Peter yelled.

He was creating a scene.  Soldiers rushed up, pushing watchers down the hall.  Becoming nervous, Summer became less sensitive and more forceful to Peter.

“Stop hurting her!” he repeated. “You are always hurting her!”

Tears poured down his face.  The pain in his voice broke my heart. I began crying too.

“Peter, time to let go now, baby,” I told him, trying to keep my voice calm.

“No!  They always hurt you. I know they do…I see them do it.  I see the bruises…I don’t want them to hurt you anymore!”

My stomach felt as if someone had punched it hard.  While I had never purposefully hidden my bruises from Peter, I hadn’t realized how much he had seen.

“Peter, we have to go,” Summer begged. “Please…”

“No!  He’s hurting her!” Peter argued.

“You are the one hurting, you little brat,” Kukri growled, reaching for my brother.

As quickly as I could, I grabbed Kukri’s arm as it reached for Peter.  Snapping his eyes to me, Kukri growled at me.  With the smallest shake, I said no. 

“Peter, baby, I love you and I’ll be alright,” I partially lied, giving him a watery smile.  “Why don’t you give me a big hug, but can you hug me a little lower?  My ribs hurt.”

Sniffling, Peter nodded, loosening his grip to lower his arms.  Summer wrenched him away as soon as his hands loosened.  Screaming, Peter fought against Summer to get to me.  Maria and Kristy huddled around Summer and Peter as Kukri pulled me away a few yards. Running with Peter in her arms, Summer cried as my brother screamed my name.  I cried too, unable to stop myself.  A few fleeting glances from Maria and Kristy told me they were crying as well.  Finally, they were gone, and with them the rest of the students and faculty. 

“Clingy little bastard,” Kukri said annoyed.

“Shut up,” I said weakly.

“What?” his voice snapped.

“I said shut up.  Don’t talk about what you don’t know about.”