Children of Paranoia Read Online Free Page B

both part of the War. The fact that we’d found out was just dumb luck.
    When the kids were done introducing themselves, Matt went on. “Okay, I know you guys are nervous. You’re nervous for two reasons. First, you’re nervous because you don’t know why you’re here. Second, you’ve got an idea about why you’re here and you’re nervous that you might be right. You all know that you are different. You know your lives are different from your friends’. You can feel it. I know that you’ve asked your parents questions over the years that they’ve refused to answer. Well, first let me assure you that they refused to answer your questions because they were trying to protect you.” Matt paused for effect. “I’m here because soon everything is going to change for you. Ignorance will no longer protect you. I’m here to tell you the truth.”
    The truth? The word bounced in my head. It echoed there for a moment and then died away before I had time to think too hard about it. Matt jumped right in. “How many people here have had a close family member murdered?” Six of the eight kids raised their hands. Matt raised his hand too. I could have but chose not to. “How many of you have had a parent murdered?” Three of the eight. As they raised their hands, the kids looked around the room, the expressions on their faces a mix of fear and amazement. The names, the clubs, the sports, those things didn’t help any one of these kids bond. The death, that’s what bonds them together, that’s what bonds all of us together.
    â€œStrange, don’t you think?” Matt nodded. “Well, my job here today is to tell you who killed your parents”—Matt made eye contact with the three kids who had lost parents—“and your relatives”—he lifted his head and gazed across the broader room. At this point, Matt turned on the projector that he had hooked up to his laptop. It projected an image against the blank white wall. All of the kids were now hooked, their eyes fixated on the picture in front of them. In their wildest dreams, this is not what they expected. When I was in their spot, it wasn’t what I had expected. I remember how shocked I was. The picture glowed on the wall. It was a picture of a white man, roughly thirty years old, with blond hair, brushed to the side. He looked like a television star, handsome, strong. The next picture was of a black man, roughly fifty years old, with a white beard and glasses. Matt clicked a button on his keyboard. The next picture was of a dark-haired woman with deep-set eyes and a slightly crooked smile. Another picture, this one of an Indian man wearing a turban, then one of a chubby white man with a crew cut, then one of a young black woman with her hair tied back, a Hispanic woman, a Korean man, another white man, another white woman, a woman wearing a Muslim headscarf, a man with a long beard, a Chinese woman, and on and on. This little slide show lasted nearly twenty minutes. We had video. We had plenty of video, but they’d tested it and the pictures always had more effect. The pictures gave the kids time to ruminate on the faces. I had seen nearly all of these slides before. There were only a few new additions. Each of these people was one of our enemies. We knew it. About half of them had been eliminated already. The rest were still on the list.
    When the slide show ended, Matt stood silently. He wasn’t going to say anything. He was going to stand there until one of the kids spoke up, even if it took an hour. It never took that long. Rob, the hockey player, raised his hand. “Yes, Rob?” Matt asked.
    â€œSo which one did it?”
    â€œWhich one did what?” Matt asked. He knew what Rob was asking but he wanted Rob to say the words. He wanted every kid in that room to hear Rob say the words.
    â€œWhich one killed my mom?” Rob asked. Then he