The Midnight Stand (The Elysia Saga Book 1) by Louis A. Affortunato Page B

block if he wanted to.
    Harley did think about doing that, taking out
all the new AutoHomes in a five mile radius. He even drew up plans on how it
could be done and delineated areas to place the explosive, but he thought of
all those unknowing families that would die for no fault of their own other
than participating in a system that destroyed their free will. On the other
hand they freely chose to be a part of it. They held up their hands and
surrendered their freedom at the feet of the Council. Besides, Harley had so
much explosive that the blast would be so destructive they wouldn’t even know
they were blown up. He shook these thoughts out of his head and tried to
concentrate. All too often he found himself thinking these ideas and hours
would pass as he pondered different scenarios. In the end it all led to
precious time wasting.
    The C4 was tightly packed lengthwise side by
side in rows of five by four. Harley took one block in his hand and felt the
weight of it. He remembered the first time he used C4. He was a teenager and one
of his friends stole a block from the warehouse that stored the explosive for
the burgeoning resistance movement. They cut off a tiny piece and wired it
under a large boulder in the woods. When they set off the charge the C4
exploded in a loud boom and left a hole the size of a bowling ball in the side
of the boulder.
    It was his first lesson in explosives: if you
think you have too little, it ends up being more than you need.
    He took out four blocks and lined them up on the
floor. He figured that should be enough to serve his purpose. He then rummaged
through the box and took out four blasting caps and detonators along with a
spool of copper wire.
    The sight of all that in his living room turned
his stomach and the realization of what he was going to do began to dawn on
him. His legs became weak and he had to stagger to sit down before he
collapsed. A panic attack suddenly overtook him. He clutched the armrest of the
couch and tried to control his breathing, but it was no use.  
    What was he doing? Was this really what he
intended to do? Was this why he wanted to get his wife and son out of the
house, so he could become some kind of political martyr?
    The implications of the plan were never factored
into Harley’s thinking and what it would mean for Sara and Jasper. If he went
through with it, Jasper would almost certainly grow up without a father. Even
if Harley was able to survive the night, he’d be locked up in the Cube so deep
no one would ever see him again. It was as good as being dead.
    The effect on Sara would be worse. How would she
cope having to raise Jasper on her own? The Council wasn’t generally accepting
of single mothers. They preferred parity in the household as they felt it
provided for a better upbringing. Unless the mother could show that she was
capable of raising the child on her own, the Council will step in and place the
child in the special foster district. Exceptions were sometimes made for
widows, but Harley believed that no special treatment would be made for Sara
seeing how her husband would be branded a political terrorist.
    Harley ran to the bathroom and splashed water on
his face. The cold water felt refreshing against his skin as he held his head
under the faucet. He shut the water and held on to the sides of the white porcelain
basin, taking long deep breaths, trying to calm his nerves and slow his heart
rate.
    He lifted his head and looked at himself in the
mirror. For a brief moment he saw the face of his grandfather looking back at
him. He shared his grandfather’s jawline and steel blue eyes. Harley remembered
how his grandfather looked the last time he saw him, lying on the living room
floor, his eyes looking up at him as he spoke. It was the last thing he ever
said.
    The memory of that day brought Harley back to
ground and a wave of anger entered him. He remembered why this was important
and why he had to go through with it, but could he?
    His