The next morning, I found myself in the lounge with Reese, Micaiah, and Eli. Eli's neck was still bruised, but it was lighter than it had been on Thursday. I was so thankful to see him engaging in normal activities. I knew his injuries had been minor, but I had still been concerned.
We had finally decided to sit down and watch the news to catch up on what we had missed. We had been too scared to do so yesterday, and besides, the CCSA had warned us against it. They had a very good reason to. Washington was in shambles, politically and otherwise.
The President's funeral was going to be held later this week, and preparations were being made for him to be buried in Arlington since he served in the military as a young man. Some newscasters weren't even pretending to grieve. These stations were harder to find, of course, because half of them were being shut off within seconds of beginning their risky broadcast. However, most were putting on their sad faces for the camera.
The Vice President would be sworn in at ten. He was going to deliver a speech to the public in hopes to ease the panic and anger that had arisen in most areas of the country. Protests and riots were being broadcasted from California to New York City, with DC harboring some of the most violent. Two people had been shot in a riot just last night.
"He's going to really struggle to pull this off," Micaiah remarked. "The people support him even less than they did the actual president. Plus, they barely know him."
"It's a shame, really. I wish it hadn't come to this," Reese added.
I shrugged. "Things were getting pretty bad. Something was going to happen eventually."
Then again, the Capitol had been bombed just last week. The violence should have stopped there. Did they not realize that they weren't going to get anywhere under the current political regime? Reconstruction was already being discussed for the Capitol, and investigators were still searching for the culprits. Not a word had been said about why it was bombed, and no one had dared to connect the camps or the Yellow Death to these less-than-ideal circumstances.
We sat in silence as someone began to sing the national anthem. A few months ago, the song would have warded more respect from me. Now it was just another overdone melody that no one bothered to understand the meaning of. The United States wasn't the country I had been born into anymore.
"I don't know if I want to watch this," Micaiah said. "I feel like it's just going to make me angrier."
"It is our country, it's very possible that this man will be our president when we get home. We may as well accept that," Eli countered. "I mean, hopefully he's replaced in the coming months. But we should still pay him the respect his position deserves."
"I wish we could do something to put him out of office entirely and replace him with someone better," Reese stated. "I wouldn't care if it was the same party, even. Just someone that would be able to put the public at rest."
"I don't know if that's going to happen anytime soon, honestly," I replied. "And the CCSA has already said they won't do anything until after the election in November."
I had spoken to Justin about it yesterday, after he told me the President was shot. He had explained that this wasn't a federal organization. They received government aid, but because they weren't run by the government, they couldn't act on behalf of it. And they didn't want to risk the possibility of a war between Canada and the States anyways. It was frustrating.
The procedure of bringing in a new president was long and formal, and after thirty minutes of the nonsense, we were all about to fall asleep. "Just let the guy speak already," Micaiah commented. "That's the only reason we're watching this."
Unfortunately, we had to wait another forty-five minutes before he finally took the podium. His voice was deep and somber as he began to speak, first mourning his friend and President, then addressing the bombing of the Capitol.
People began shouting from somewhere in the distance. They hadn't allowed a crowd to gather near the new president, but in the background of one of the camera's shots, I could see a group of people protesting outside the fence. The camera did its best to avoid showing them, but it was no use. We could still hear them no matter where they were taking the shot from.
The president seemed unphased by the chaos he could no doubt see from his vantage point. He continued to speak, and the longer he went without addressing the camps, the louder the people grew.
"Washington is going to have to do something about the camps soon," I said. "Do they not see the mob behind the fence?"
"I would have done something by now, if I were them," Reese added.
The camps had to be extremely important to the government if they were holding out this long. The public opposition had done nothing to change their minds, even after destroying the heart of Washington's infrastructure and the leader of Washington's politics.
The President continued his speech, even as the shouting began to drown him out. "Can you make out what they're saying?" I asked.
"No, but it's not that hard to guess," Eli replied. "It sounds like it's along the lines of 'down with the camps.' That's what half of the signs say anyway. And the guy hasn't said a word about them. I'd be shouting the same thing."
"It's amazing how quickly people got behind this," I remarked. "Less than two thousand kids probably remain in those camps. That's a tiny fraction of the population."
Eli shook his head. "It's not about who's trapped there. It's about justice for the public as a whole. Some of them are smart enough to figure out that the camps' tests aren't being convicted in vain. They want control of their own future without having to worry about the government using them as pawns."
"Let's be honest. They've been pawns for a while. I mean, have you seen the difference between America and Canada?" Reese pointed out. He shrugged.
Something was thrown at the camera, and then the screen went black. I sighed. They couldn't even show the new president being sworn in without the broadcast falling apart. It was sad and infuriating at the same time. What had our country come to?
Later that afternoon, all the teenagers who had come from the camps, along with Luke, Eli, and I of course, were called to a meeting with Michelle and Justin. Britt and Anna were apparently working on something else, so they couldn't be here.
"We just wanted to bring you all together so we could discuss what's been happening recently," Michelle began.
"Are we going to start freeing the camps again?" Preston asked.
"No. We won't be doing that for a while still. Hopefully the government will take care of that job for us. But we did want to tell you that we will be sending all the other kids home tomorrow. And if they can't return to their parents, we'll either find one of their relatives who will take them in or help them get back on their feet some other way."
The room erupted as everyone began speaking at once. "When can we go home?" Laura's voice rose above everyone else's. She swung her violet ponytail over her shoulder. "It's not fair if we don't get to go home too."
Justin held up his hand to silence us. "One question at a time. Laura, we're getting to that. We have to take things one step at a time. We only just decided that it was time to send those kids home. It's unfair to keep them separated from their families longer than they already have been, and the public knows enough about the camps that the kids shouldn't be held accountable for much of what they say. But it is still unsafe for everyone, and it was a very difficult decision to make."
She huffed in frustration. Michelle shot Justin a look before giving her own answer to Laura. "We decided a couple days ago that you can go home if you want to. We don't want to hold you here against your will, although you're welcome here until things settle down. We would be able to find jobs for those of you that are eighteen and older, if you chose not to return to the United States at all, as long as you could get your paperwork in order. Even if you aren't eighteen, there are still options here."
The room stayed silent. She had mentioned this when Eli and I met with her last week. We had agreed to stay here until the States weren't on the brink of civil war. But no one else had been exposed to the idea. Even Laura seemed taken aback by her statement. They hadn't been prepared to make that decision.
"It's up to you, and you can leave at any point," Michelle continued. "We won't push you out until early next year, probably. You can't live here forever."
"Are any of you already considering leaving?" Justin asked. A few hands went up around the table. I was surprised to see Alex and Anderson both raise their hands. They were two of us that were most at risk for being targeted with the disease. And the public had zero access to the cure. Going home could mean a death sentence for them if they were discovered.
Eli grasped my hand under the table, leaning closer to me so he could whisper something in my ear. "How long do you want to stay?" he questioned. We had talked about it a little bit, but we had never mentioned a specific timeframe.
"Maybe until after the election," I replied. It fell along the lines of what we had suggested before. He nodded.
"What are you going to do about the camps?" Micaiah had completely changed the subject, but there was no doubt we were all wondering the same thing.
"The camps aren't a priority anymore. If the political circle in Washington D.C. has much sense left in them, they will release the camps before events escalate much further," Justin said. "Then responsibilities fall to the next president to ensure that the country doesn't follow through with their original plans of creating a superhuman army."
It was a lot of faith to put in someone that we didn't even know the name of yet. But he was right. We couldn't do much anymore, and the public was pushing for action. They had already proved they would go to radical levels to get their point across. It was only a matter of time before something changed.