The elite rebellion, p.1
The Elite Rebellion, page 1
The Elite Rebellion
by
Jamie L. Hart
Jamie L. Hart Presents
The Elite Rebellion
© Jamie Hart Library 2026
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or in any means – by electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise – without prior written permission from the author.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Cover Art by | Alyx Hibbs
Prologue
Four Years Later | Monday, October 2nd, 2260 | Chicago, UWO District of Illinois
Chapter 1 | Wake Up
Chapter 2 | Consideration
Chapter 3 | Forced My Hand
Chapter 4 | Basic Training
Chapter 5 | Gear Up
Chapter 6 | Run
Chapter 7 | The Note
Chapter 8 | The Drive
Chapter 9 | The Attack
Chapter 10 | Complications
Chapter 11 | The City that Never Sleeps
Chapter 12 | Homeward Bound
Chapter 13 | Home Sweet Home
Chapter 14 | Escape
Chapter 15 | Plan B
Chapter 16 | The Ratways
Chapter 17 | Oak Park
Chapter 18 | Reparations
Chapter 19 | En Route
Chapter 20 | We Meet Again
Chapter 21 | Coals Still Hot
Chapter 22 | Most Wanted
Chapter 23 | Regroup, Rebuild, Reflect
Chapter 24 | Surprise
Chapter 25 | Rerouting
Chapter 26 | We Have A Problem
Chapter 27 | Security Breach
Chapter 28 | It All Came Crashing Down
Chapter 29 | The Battle of Houston
Chapter 30 | The Battle of Houston: Part 2
Epilogue
About the Author
Cover Art by
Alyx Hibbs
Prologue
LUCAS SAT DOWN AT THE dinner table, his eye on the digital clock mounted on the wall. Five o’clock. His dad was usually home by now, but today he wasn’t. His mother, Renee, passed through the small dining area in the apartment and into the kitchen. A minute later, she was sat a portion of chicken dinner and sides in front of Lucas at the table.
“Mom, where’s dad at?” he asked. He took a look at the calendar. It was Tuesday, February 19th. His father didn’t even work on Tuesdays.
“I got a call a few minutes ago. The war in Canada is ramping up again, and the army needed him back. He’ll be home again in a few months.”
“Again? When will this stupid war end?” Lucas muttered.
“I know, son. It’ll be over once they get ahold of the meteorite that started it all,” his mother assured him. He rolled his eyes. He’d been told over and over that some stupid space rock landed on the border, and now his father had to fight for it. The excuse was tired in his eyes.
“Who even cares about the meteor? Canada has it, so what?”
“They say it’s powerful,” she said as she cut into her dinner.
“Right.”
Just then, the television screen in the living area flashed a different headline than before.
Breaking News: President delivers groundbreaking speech in North Dakota!
Lucas grabbed the remote from the table and turned the volume up to hear the news reporter’s voice. It almost sounded panicked, like he’d been told something awful.
“The information is still coming in as fact checkers get to the area, but President Reginald Moore has apparently delivered a groundbreaking public speech in his home state of North Dakota. We have reporters on scene now with recorded footage.”
The stream cut to a different reporter, who stood in a crowd surrounded by other press members. In the background, there was chaos. Waves of people ran by from one side of the screen to the other, as if they were being threatened by some off-screen force.
“That is correct, Jim. What you see behind me is the remnants of the crowd from President Moore’s speech. We have a recording of the speech he gave, but it’s got a lot of people in a panic,” the reporter stated.
Once again, the footage cut to a different scene. It was the recorded footage, which showed President Moore walking across stage as he was handed a microphone.
“It truly is an honor being the hundredth President of the United States of America. However, there are going to be some changes. Everybody, please welcome the members of the Council,” he said.
He waved to someone off screen behind him, and the cameraman panned down to reveal seven people in hooded robes entering the stage. They stood in a line behind him before crossing their arms to wait patiently while he continued the rest of his speech.
“These men and women have come together and agreed to rule the country with authority. The Members of Congress and the Supreme Court have both agreed that this is a step in the correct direction. Now, with the Council in charge, I resign,” Moore read, his eyes pointed at the podium in front of him.
The entire crowd gasped in shock. The man who’d handed him the microphone returned with some kind of document, which the President took. He scribbled a signature, flipped the paper, and jotted another. With that, he departed the stage never to be seen again.
“What just happened?” Lucas asked, his eyes unable to be pulled from the screen. Eventually, he turned to face his mother.
“We just lost our country,” she muttered before pulling herself out of her chair and disappearing into her bedroom.
Four Years Later
Monday, October 2nd, 2260
Chicago, UWO District of Illinois
Chapter 1
Wake Up
“WAKE UP!” THE WORDS cut through Lucas like a scorched knife through butter. His eyes peeled open to see his mother at the foot of his bed. She had a hand around his leg and shook him violently.
“I’m up!” Lucas whined as he pulled his leg from her grasp.
“Thank God! You have twenty minutes before you’re late to school! Do you remember what happened last time you were late?” she asked.
“Yes, I remember,” Lucas said as he pulled himself out of the bed.
“I thought you had to work today?” Lucas questioned, turning to her as he stood up.
“I do, but I don’t go in until seven,” she answered. Lucas’s eyes darted to the digital clock that sat on his bedside table. It read six-forty-one. He had to be at school by seven.
“You’ve already missed the bus,” his mom noted, walking out of the room.
“I can get there in less than twenty minutes!” Lucas called out.
When she was gone, Lucas got dressed. He stepped into the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He looked into the mirror, but he struggled to see past the brown hair that covered his eyes. He brushed it up, which cleared his vision. Now, he was able to see his green eyes and the freckles that decorated his face. He made his way into the living room, slipped his shoes on, and then threw his backpack over his shoulder before he stepped out the door.
Although Lucas knew how to drive, the Council had banned the use of motor vehicles outside of work, and his family wasn’t allowed to own one. He stepped off the porch, turning left on the sidewalk towards his school.
He began to walk through what many called the “bad part” of town. Several older men in ragged clothing with long gray beards stood across the sidewalk. Before he could stop himself, Lucas made eye contact with one, who was holding a cardboard sign.
“Council says I’m too old to work! Any ration is a blessing!”
Lucas walked past him. He’d love to have helped, but his mother’s rations weren’t his to give out. Most of the men on the street held signs similar to his. He continued down the street, where he saw a lady barely dressed with rags stumbling out of an alleyway, falling on her face into the street.
“Keep your hands off my liquor next time!” a man shouted from down the alley. Lucas tried not to look at them.
“Oh, look everybody! We’ve got a richie over here!” someone shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Lucas.
“Fancy-pants over here thinks he’s better than us because the Council lets his momma work!” another yelled.
“I’m just trying to get to school, guys,” Lucas said, defending himself from the harassment.
“School!? Any of us would have dreamed of going to school!” a kid shouted. Lucas tried to ignore them, continuing towards the school. Someone hurled a bottle at him, which shattered on the ground next to him and shot glass shards toward his legs.
“That’s enough!” Lucas shouted, stepping toward the man who threw the bottle in a threatening manner. The man stepped back, raising his hands. They were all starved and beaten anyway—it's not like they were much of a threat. Lucas turned away, making his way back down the road. On the corner, he saw a man who was dressed rather nicely for this area of town. An odd symbol on the left side of his suit jacket caught Lucas’s eye. He’d never seen an emblem like that before. In one hand, he held a clipboard. With the other, he wrote something down before looking at Lucas and nodding.
“Hello, sir,” Lucas said in a confused tone, not quite sure who the man was or what he was doing here—especially not dressed like that. He’d never seen him before.
He walked into the school, five minutes left on the clock before the bell rang. Jackson, his best friend since forever, was standing next to his locker. Hi s long blonde hair was swept to one side, revealing his blue eyes and fair complexion as he glared at Lucas.
“What the hell took you so long, Lucas? You know I don’t know the combination to your locker!” Jackson said.
“Sorry, I slept in,” Lucas said, putting his combination into the digital keypad on the locker.
“Remind me why you don’t keep your stuff in your own locker?” Lucas asked Jackson, laying his bag in the locker.
“The school only provides those shitty tiny lockers with no locks on them to people like me, you know that.” He put his backpack in Lucas’s locker. They stepped away, slamming the locker behind them. Together, they took off down the hallway, chattering on the way to class.
Suddenly, Jackson was stopped in his tracks. A boy named Thomas stood in front of him. He had two Upper Class parents, so he was able to live well—and it showed. He towered over him, as he was about a foot taller than both Lucas and Jackson. He wore his brown hair in a well-kept fade, his hair lifted off his forehead in a gelled style.
“Well well, if it isn’t Lucas and his little street rat buddy,” Thomas laughed, turning to his other wealthy friends.
“Leave him alone, Thomas,” Lucas warned, stepping toward him.
“How about you shut up?” Thomas threatened, his brown eyes piercing through Lucas. “Damn weirdo, fraternizing with these freaks that don’t contribute to society. People that are tearing the Order apart day by day in their little Rebellions.”
“They don’t let my mom work, man,” Jackson said, stepping to Thomas. “And she isn’t a Rebel.”
“That’s because her work isn't worth having. She belongs on the damn streets with the rest of them,” Thomas sneered. He took a threatening step toward Jackson.
“Why don’t you get to class, buddy,” Lucas said, putting an arm between Thomas and Jackson.
“And what’re you gonna do if I don’t?” Thomas asked, his head cocked toward Lucas.
Before Lucas could answer, the bell rang.
“Saved by the bell, freak,” Thomas said with a snicker, turning and walking away. He wasn’t even halfway down the hall before he shot a glare at them over his shoulder.
“Let’s get to class,” Jackson said. Nodding, Lucas walked toward their first period classroom. As they stepped inside, the teacher raised her head from the paper she was staring at, giving the boys a disapproving look.
“Lucas Anderson, Jackson Jones... Tardy,” she mumbled to herself, writing on the paper.
“Sorry, ma’am,” Lucas and Jackson said in unison.
“Lucas, this is the second time you’ve been late this semester. I could understand this kind of behavior from Jackson, but from someone like you?” the teacher asked, scoffing. She had a look of disappointment on her face, a sort of disdain for the Lower Class.
Before anyone in the room could get another word out, there was a harsh beep over the intercom followed by a secretary’s gravelly voice.
“Miss Carter, could you send Jackson Jones and Lucas Anderson to the office?” the voice asked.
“Yes, they’re on their way!” she responded, glaring at the two. Obediently, the two turned around and walked out the door. As they were heading down the hallway, Jackson turned to Lucas.
“What do you think we did?” Jackson asked.
“It couldn’t be for being late, she couldn’t have reported it that fast,” Lucas said. They turned down the hallway towards the office and continued through the doors.
Inside, the principal stood next to the secretary that had called them down. She glanced up at the two entering the office, pointing them out to the principal. He gave them a look for a second before realizing who they were.
“Lucas Anderson, Jackson Jones?” he asked.
“Yes sir,” Lucas answered. The principal pointed toward a pair of empty chairs. A third chair sat next to them, but it was occupied. Thomas Cook was sitting there staring at the wall with his arms crossed.
Sitting down next to Thomas, Lucas and Jackson followed the principal’s orders.
“The hell you two down here for?” Thomas asked, not even giving eye contact to either of them.
“The secretary called us down,” Lucas answered, not looking at Thomas either.
“Huh... me too,” Thomas went on as he glanced at Lucas for only a second.
“You think it’s for the same reason as us?” Jackson asked.
“Hell if I know,” Thomas spat.
The principal continued speaking to the secretary for a moment before he walked over to the three boys in the chairs. With a clipboard in one hand and the other on his hip, he cleared his throat.
“Will you three follow me?” he asked them.
“Yes sir,” all three of them said in unison, although Thomas had a more sarcastic tone to his response.
The three of them followed the principal into a different office room, which was home to a couple of bookshelves. In the middle of the room was a desk with papers strewn across it. A single chair sat behind it, which the principal sat down in. Next to the desk, a lady wearing a navy-blue button-down shirt and khaki pants stood. On her chest, she wore several medals, badges, and flags.
“Boys, this is Elite Officer Emily Vasquez. She’ll be talking to you about a program that we’ve selected you for,” he explained. Vasquez took a step forward, placing a file in front of each boy. A symbol was printed on the front of it—the same symbol that Lucas had seen on the strange well-dressed man’s suit jacket. A sword and a rifle, crossed into an X shape on a golden crest.
“Open these,” she said. Lucas and Jackson reached forward, grabbing their files and opening them. Thomas reluctantly did the same, peeling his open. Inside, there was a brief description of each of them. Lucas began reading his, glossing over the general description and toward the details at the bottom.
Name: Lucas Anderson
Address: 425 Jacobsville Road
Societal Status: Middle Class, One Working Parent
Description: Passing all classes, highly confrontational, intelligent and strong.
Lucas skimmed through the words three or four times. He started to wonder how they knew so much about him, but was interrupted in thought when another person entered the room. He only looked at him for a second, but Lucas recognized him as the nicely dressed man from the bad part of town that had been taking notes on his clipboard. In his hand, he held the very same clipboard.
“Hello, boys. We’ve been waiting for you,” the man said in a chalky tone as he crossed the room to stand next to Vasquez.
Thomas glanced at him for a moment before his panicked eyes shot back to the file.
“Are we being arrested for something?” Thomas asked, clearly worried.
“Ha! Not at all. We’re here to hire you,” Vasquez said. She stepped forward to begin an explanation.
“There are some people in our great nation who aren’t very happy about the Council or their decisions. Those people have started Rebellions against the UWO. Two years ago, the Council created a new force—The Elite Forces of the Council. Our one job is to squash these Rebellions and stop them from ripping our Order apart,” she explained.
“What’s in it for us?” Jackson asked quickly.
“I’m glad you asked. First of all, Elites get major benefits. That means that no matter how many people are in your family, they’ll be supplied the correct amount of rations and housing to keep them healthy and strong without needing to work,” Emily continued.
“What about us two? We don’t need those benefits,” Thomas asked, looking back and forth from Vasquez to Lucas.
“While your families will also get those benefits, you will also be able to rest easy at night knowing that your friends and family are safe from Rebellions. Taking terrorists off the streets means that your people won’t be victims of terrorism,” the man said, leaning on a wall behind the principal’s desk.
“We only ask that you consider this offer. In each of your files, there is a form that you will need to fill out and turn in by Wednesday. That gives you three days to decide if you want to continue civilian life or join us amidst the ranks of the Elites. You are dismissed,” Vasquez stated.
With that, Lucas and Jackson stood up and left the office. Thomas wasn’t far behind them.
