'Of course I was scared,' Luke said. 'But I had to do it, you know?'
He looked at his two friends, and he knew they understood. They had also taken some terrifying chances. They had also risked their lives for freedom. It made the job of tearing down signs seem simple by comparison. Luke wondered if this was how it would be for the rest of their lives: that any other dangers or challenges they might face would pale in comparison to what they'd survived as kids.
He could see his family rushing through the crowd to find him — having seen him on TV, they wouldn't be able to sit at home, waiting, anymore. And instead of whisking him off home to try to keep him safe, they would decide to stay and help. He could see his dad telling the new government how to deal with farmers, his mother telling them about factory workers.
He could see Matthew getting to raise hogs again. He could see himself playing football with Mark again— Mark's leg finally fully healed — and maybe with Jen's older brothers, Brownley and Buellton, as well, when they came back safely to the Talbots' house.
He could see old, abandoned fields reclaimed, resplendent with new crops. He could see roads and bridges and houses all over the country repaired and rebuilt, all the warped framework set right, all the broken windows replaced.
He could see Oscar Wydell and Aldous Krakenaur and all the other Population Police officials caught and tried and sentenced, so none of them could haunt his nightmares ever again.
He could see Mr. Hendricks and Mr. and Mrs. Talbot working in the new government. Maybe one of them would be the new leader — a leader chosen by the people, not just forced into office through brute strength. Maybe someday he or Nina or Trey might even campaign to be elected, and then lead the country that had once said they had no right to exist.
He could see Nina taking care of her grandmother and aunties the way they'd once taken care of her. He could see Trey becoming a college professor someday, and Matthias becoming a minister, and Percy an engineer, and Alia, little Alia — well, maybe someday she'd be a doctor like Mrs. Talbot.
He could see all the timid, odd third children he'd known at Hendricks School getting a chance to lead ordinary lives — or maybe extraordinary lives. Maybe one of them would become a great inventor or a great writer or a great philosopher or… who could say what they might be capable of now?
He could see Smits reclaiming Population Police headquarters as the Grant house again, turning it into a home for children who'd lost their families. And he could see the boy on crutches, the one who'd been beaten by the Population Police, helping out.
He could see himself as a grown man with a farm of his own, married with children of his own — maybe two, maybe three, maybe more. He would take his wife and children and go back for Sunday dinners with Mother and Dad and Matthew's family and Mark's family. And they'd all sit at the same table, all together.
He could see himself and his friends gathering each year at a memorial for Jen and all the other third children who'd died in the rally. He could see himself staying longer than everyone else, bending down over the memorial so he could touch the cold stone and whisper to the ghostly memory of a girl who would never grow up, who had sacrificed everything for her beliefs:
He didn't know if any of those things would really happen.
But they were all possible now.
About The Author
Margaret Peterson Haddix is the author of many memorable novels for young readers, including