The Book (36 page)

Read The Book Online

Authors: M. Clifford

Tags: #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #Retail, #21st Century, #Amazon.com

BOOK: The Book
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The most important books would be channeled from the reading room one shelf at a time and into a holding station before being carted away from the premises in government-issued trucks, while the local fire department would attempt to put out the inferno. At that point, Holden’s plan detailed that members of
Ex Libris
would hijack one or two of these trucks. While some books would burn tragically in the fire and others would be ruined by blasts of water from the hydrants outside, they could drive back to Chicago happily because the most prized works of literature would be in their possession. It was an upturned way of thinking, but it was the only hope they had to save the most important literature on the planet.

The following day, after the consensus had been reached to move forward, Moby came home with his band of branders. He was so glad to see Holden was safe that he gave the man a rest and instantly became the voice of the movement. With Jeff’s help, Moby developed a plan to ‘export’ the books from Washington DC while avoiding any satellite tracking systems. Once they knew what had to be done, they slaved over digital maps and crunched the numbers without sleep until they determined precisely where they could separate the books into multiple vehicles outside the capital and ditch the truck.

Helping where he could, Winston posed a suggestion that they would need to send someone to the Library of Congress to scout for help on the inside. They needed to find a well-placed librarian who could guarantee that the books they deemed to be the most important would be funneled into the right trucks and Winston did what he could to secure such a person in the limited time they had available.

Shane became the architect of the fire. He knew more about sprinkler systems than Holden and rallied the group around the plan with his charismatic attitude. Still working at General Fire, he used many of his contacts to gain access to the floor plans and schematic layout of the library, including complete plumbing and sprinkler plans. He even found the exact model of the main protection grid and brought one home so Holden could practice.

Everyone, even the teenagers, had been involved in the planning stage. They worked into the night, every night, until it was done. The only item left to be determined was to choose the four members who would drive east to finish the job. Shane was the first to volunteer, followed quickly by three other strong, confident men, but it didn’t take long for everyone to silently agree on a different four. It was only right that the people who threw the first punches were the ones to take the last.

Marion and Holden.

Moby and Winston.

Although the man’s body was old, Winston’s mind was sharp. Moby was a master of disguise and deception. And while Marion and Holden were wanted terrorists with perhaps the most recognizable faces in the country, neither one would leave without the other. For the four of them, there were no other options. There was a high likelihood that they may not be coming back and they were unwilling to sacrifice a pawn unless it was their own.

The launch date was set and the remaining members of their group decided they needed to throw a party to blow off steam and cut through the obvious tension. Their ambitious plan seemed perfect, but there was no telling what would happen and all of them felt they should send their leaders to the front lines with a bang. Thankfully, although the weather remained gloomy, the rainfall had been kept to the city and they were able to celebrate with a very normal, very relaxed backyard barbecue.

Wearing flip flops and holding a plastic Frisbee, Holden walked out onto the grass feeling so content. Little pow-wows of people surrounded the backyard of Winston’s estate just as content, having agreed that they weren’t going to discuss The Book. No one would utter a word about the Publishing House, or the androidian Agents, or the Library of Congress, or the fact that four of them may never be coming back. They just had fun.

Fun
, Holden thought.

How distant that word felt to him. It was unfamiliar and almost uninvited. The event was already a rousing success and he felt a bittersweetness in his mouth among swigs of beer. He had been able to relax and been able to enjoy himself, but, as every moment passed, he understood ever more that he would not be returning to that house.

Holden knew he would be able to start the fire and that Marion and Winston and Moby would be able to coordinate and bring the books safely home, but he understood his role was different and he accepted it. He was the one who would have to stay inside the building and monitor the sprinkler system to make sure things went according to plan and, if needed, to fight off anyone that tried to stop them. It wouldn’t go down easily. He knew that. Men, like Martin Trust (the director of Historic Homeland Whatever), would be looking for him. And although that man would not be expecting Holden to play such a risky hand, he would certainly make sure that Holden could not escape the capital after doing so. That was the reason why Holden would not allow Shane to take the role that was meant only for him. Even before stepping out of Alex and Kari’s yellow station wagon, Holden had known that he would not be coming back.

But that was not the only thing he had kept from the group. Holden knew that the moment the fire was started and books were destroyed, other laws would be put into place. The government would be forced to see this as a tragedy in the eyes of the American public and in turn, they would add better protection and perhaps write new laws to keep the books that survived the fire out of harms way for future generations. It was an unsafe bet, because books would need to be destroyed to make it happen, but if there was one thing Holden had learned from Martin Trust, it was that sacrifices were necessary for the greater good.

Winston had been the first one to tell him that books were more important than his own life and Holden believed that now. During so many solitary days sleeping under the watchful, arrogant sun, not knowing if he would ever make it back to them alive, Holden had made that honest distinction and accepted his worth. If he had to sacrifice himself to save all that freedom and change the world, he would do it. But he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about that. He was supposed to be trying to relax and enjoy their night. To throw a Frisbee around and mingle. Have a drink or two and work the grill. Just be. Just have fun. Because, more than likely, it would be the last bit of fun he would ever have.

Shane saw Holden standing by himself at the mammoth, gorilla grill and walked over to meet him. A plume of fire launched into his face as he flipped the greasy burgers and he was momentarily lost in the smoke.

“Need some help there, sailor?” Shane asked, throwing an arm around his friend.

“Hey,” Holden grinned, hugging him back. “Thanks for everything you did this week. I can’t tell you how good it felt to just relax and let you guys close everything out.”

“We’re not talking about that, remember?” he said, jabbing him in the gut.

Holden nodded and looked away. He could see, across the yard, beyond a group of guys tossing bean bags, that Marion was laughing with another man he didn’t know. She threw her head back and clasped her hands together, as he gesticulated wildly and pointed to the dog that was digging up Winston’s garden. Marion lowered her head, pulled her hair behind her ears and looked up to see Holden watching her. Her smile faded a bit. And then it changed. Locking eyes with Holden, she smiled for him now. As the man continued speaking, Marion lost herself in Holden’s gaze. And that perfect smile told him everything he ever wanted to hear.

He turned back to Shane refreshed and smirking. “Shane, buddy. Old pal of mine,” he said getting another poke in the gut as he returned to the flame-scorched burgers. “How them Blackhawks doin’?”

“You don’t want to know, bro. Let’s just say I lost a little cash and Winston gave me a hard time about it. Most of the regulars are using a different bar down the street to watch the game now. It’s weird without you there, man.”

“Numbskull got you pulling doubles?”

“Aww, bro. You don’t realize. We’re gettin’ hammered over there. This one job on Michigan, got me goin’ up five stories and pullin’…”

As his best friend carried on complaining, Holden stood back and handed out burgers to the kids, just listening. Although Shane Dagget was crass and almost always inappropriate, Holden loved him. He was the closest person in Holden’s life and it made him sad to think that he’d never see Shane again. He wouldn’t say this aloud, of course. No one else needed to know. Most everyone had some hope that they would return unharmed, carrying stacks of books to the cellar. For Holden, although he wouldn’t wish an alternate future on himself, he would miss Shane. Sitting in their van, tapping their fingers to the music, whistling at girls and just working together. It was stupid, but he would miss the simple act of just looking at blueprints, handing each other tools, bickering over who got to go home early, and just being around each other. The only thing that made it easier for Holden was knowing that Shane, for the first time in his life, had been able to make it on his own. Being apart from his best friend had been hard for him and Holden knew that, but being on the run for two months had been a blessing in disguise. Shane was going to be just fine. In the middle of his best friend’s commentary on the over-usage of advertisement space on the ice of the United Center, Holden interrupted him. There was one thing left unsaid between them.

“Shane, I know we’re not supposed to talk about this, but I’ve just gotta say something before I forget.”

“Alright, bro…but this is it. We’re supposed to be having fun.”

“Yeah, I know.” Holden unscrewed two beers and handed one off like a baton in a relay race. “In case this goes sour, I need you to look out for Eve and Jane for me, okay?”

“Eve?! That stinkin’…” he broke off, shaking his head, “I’m a monkey’s uncle if you think for even a second that I’m taking care of Eve, after what she did to you.”

“No, listen to me. She was scared, man. Don’t act like you weren’t scared when you found that book in my bag. That’s what she was dealing with. But she’d been done with me for years. The truth was too hard for her to deal with, coming from someone she didn’t trust. And I need you to follow through, alright? I’m just thinkin’ that if this doesn’t turn out the way it should,” Holden tilted his head and carved a sharp look into his friend’s eyes. Shane had a name for that look. It was the
last chance
look. Shane had one last chance to listen and agree before he could expect a direct sock to the gut. “There’s really no telling how this is going to play out and it’s important to me that Jane knows the truth. I don’t want you to put her in harm’s way and if bringing her into this ain’t the right move, don’t do it. I just…” Holden was getting worked up and Shane could tell he needed to give his friend a second to get through what had to be said. “Just look out for her, alright?”

“It’s done,” Shane confirmed with a sip of his beer. “A.D.A.D. bro.”

“A.D.A.D.” Holden smiled.
Jiggety jig
, it was good to be back. “I told you about that log book I left in her bedroom. By now, I’m sure she’s found it and gone through it. And with that mark on her chest…”

“Bro, don’t think about that right now.”

“Just let me finish,” he swallowed, determined to get beyond the thought. “With that mark on her chest, she’s gotta be having a lot of questions. And if anyone will be there to answer her, I want it to be you. She trusts you, Shane. She’ll listen to you because I won’t be there. I know you never wanted to take on this kind of responsibility and I know this is big…but if I ain’t here…”

“But you are here. And I heard you already. And I told you. Done.”

“Alright,” Holden relinquished. They clinked their glasses against one another and swayed a single, decisive nod. A simple gesture that, in some unexplainable way, had the ability to convey the very deep, honest feelings of faith and dependability those two men had for one another.

For most of the remaining evening, Holden relaxed in the comfort of the bench Winston often frequented and watched the groups of people interacting together. Winston found him there, joined him in the tranquility and together they sat and watched, communicating without a word how comforted they were in the knowledge that things would be different. They didn’t know how yet, or when, but life would be different soon for all of the people in the backyard and many more to come. Their pace was derailed by Holden’s return, but, in time, they would be back on track, heading toward the place where only dreams were possible. And although the two men were able to find such simple joy in the laughter, the running and the smells of fun, there was a regretful sadness in the wind because they knew they wouldn’t be around when such displays of freedom became permanent in the lives of men.

As day slid on toward evening, a few of them gathered wood and built a bonfire near the water. After taking a few photographs around the billowing flames as one large group, the party moved to abandoned logs and side conversations quickly turned to ghost stories, read from tattered bindings and half-torn pages. They discussed tales, old and current. Even new ideas that sprang forth from the teenagers, feeling too young for the fight and too old for the fight of tomorrow that would be delivered through the
Knights and Bishops
.

And as the discussions carried on and Marion found her way to the log where Holden was sitting, they all began to realize that it was stories that brought them together. There were other obvious pieces to the wide-extending puzzle like freedom from oppression, the fight to restore their rights and the war against censorship, but it all began with books. Oh, how they loved to read. How the characters invoked life that could be felt on the page. How stories had the ability to break through the everyday actions of the typical drudgery to show them a world that they would never have been able to enjoy. An adventure of experiences ever beyond their reach. A time in which they were never born. A person they were never born into. An emotion they never knew they had. And a passion that they found they could no longer live without.

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