Strike by Delilah S. Dawson Read Free Book Online

service?”
    â€œThat’s all well and good, son. And thank you for your service to our country.” Leon bows his head. “But I don’t understand what you-all expect to gain here. Computers didn’t make this land of ours free. I think we should take to the hills and wait it out.”
    Leon nods. “Yes, sir. Yes, sir, I can see your point there. But we do not all possess your gifts of survival. Looking at this crowd, I see widow women, old folks, and young children who’ve seen theirparents shot in cold blood on the doorstep. Unless you’re willing to support these folks in their time of need and you feel capable enough to feed, clothe, and shelter them through a brutal winter, leaving for the hills is likely to kill them, or at the very least, leave them at the mercy of Valor.” Again, that grin. “And as I’m sure you’ll all agree, Valor is not known for mercy.”
    â€œWhat exactly is it you want us to do, then?”
    Leon steps around the lectern, hands in his pockets, and grins like Christmas. “I’m so very glad you asked. As it turns out, we’re in contact with hundreds of other cells of the Citizens for Freedom. All across the country, Americans of every age and breed are meeting, just like we are. The fine scholars of technology are joining forces with those of us who, for all our ignorance, are pretty handy with weapons and explosives. And we’re making plans.” He rocks back on his heels and laughs to himself. “Oh, yes. We do have plans. And for those willing to abandon their former life and join our fight, we can promise you one thing: the chance to strike back at the company that has taken so much from you.”
    â€œAnd what are your qualifications, Mr. Crane?”
    For just a second, Leon’s smile breaks into a sneer, but he catches it quick. “That’s an understandable question. No one wants to follow an unfit leader. I’ve lived in Candlewood all my life, as did my father and his father before him, all the way back to the War of Northern Aggression. I graduated from this very school and servedmy country during two tours in Iraq.” He rubs his hands together, looks down, and chuckles. “Now, normally I wouldn’t mention this part, but I want to be straight with y’all. After the war, I didn’t much know what to do with myself, and I put some of my knowledge of explosives to use in some shady-type operations. And I got caught. But my time in prison taught me several things: how to preach the good Lord’s word, how to lead men to the light, how to help the less fortunate, and how to control my anger issues. I style myself a gentleman now. A gentleman with a mission. And that mission is fighting to save the people Valor wants to enslave.” He grins beatifically. “Now, does that answer your question?”
    The old man nods thoughtfully and sits back down.
    Leon eyes the crowd. “Anything else?”
    â€œWhat if we’re too old to fight?” This from an ancient woman, fat and wobbling.
    Leon holds out a hand to her, as if she could take it from fifty feet away. “Every rebellion needs their Betsy Ross, my friend. We need Florence Nightingales and Harriet Tubmans. There are children without families, wounded without doctors. Helping those who can’t help themselves is as true a calling as striking back at those who strike at us.”
    Another person stands, this one a guy in his thirties, maybe. He’s disheveled and looks like he’s been drinking.
    â€œSo what do we do?”
    Leon smiles and throws out his arms. “All you have to do is meet us at these tables over here and help us find the best way to use your unique skills. Just like the Declaration of Independence, you sign your name and become a member of the Citizens for Freedom. Easy as that.”
    â€œAnd what if we don’t want to join you?”
    Whoever said that did not stand up.