Sarah squinted her eyes as she read a cue card while at practice for the school play. She was the lead in a modern day version of “Emma”.

Her friend, Joe Red Deer held the card, it read, 'The Gov is here to tag us, we have to leave now.'

“Um, I have to go to the restroom,” said Sarah to the Drama teacher. She hurried off the stage, and followed her friend outside to the school parking lot.

“Get in the van, quick, we got to roll,” said Joe.

She knew at that moment, that she might never see her family or Houston, Texas again.

It happened without warning, in the name of the Peaceland Defense, all students of every age group were to be tagged with RFIDs (Radio Frequency Identification) chips.

The chips were the size of a grain of sand and were injected into each child’s right hand. It didn’t even hurt. No questions were asked because it was the law. Anyone refusing to be added to the Peaceland Security Database would be detained or shot for compromising the security intelligence of the country.

Individual privacy had been outlawed for the safety of citizens and to make life better in the Brave New World Order.

Seventeen year-old Sarah Markowitz thought it was wrong, but she thought a lot of things were wrong.

For example, in Science class, she was told, ‘man never landed on the moon'. She got three days of detention for arguing with the teacher.

In biology, she learned that the evolution of man was a myth; true history began in the year one. She was in detention for a week, because she mentioned the geologic record.

History class they studied World War II, she was told ‘the Holocaust never happened'. She was suspended for two weeks.

Her teachers called her the ‘Demon Child’, because she was so disruptive.

“They’re going to find us, or did you forget that all car plates are tagged with RFIDs since 2010?” Sarah said to Joe, he handed her a hat and sunglasses.

“Check it out,” said Joe as he tossed a small device into her lap.

“No way,” exclaimed Sarah. “It’s a tag blocker, these are illegal. How’d you get it?”

“My father's got connections on the reservation. He knew this day would come, we’re going underground in New Orleans. We should be there soon.”

“My costume reeks of tags!”

All consumer products had been RFID tagged since the year 2020, the application on humans was a recent innovation.

“Go into the back of the van, there’s a change of clothes. We’ll dump what you got on!”

“Hurry, we’ve got to cross the border, before they put up a smart dust barricade.”

The two teens traveled through the night and arrived into New Orleans around three in the morning. It was muggy and a thick fog helped hide their presence. The address Joe’s father provided turned out to be a brothel in the French Quarter. The haggard pair knocked at the door at 332 Rue de Toulouse, a woman about fifty years old answered. She was dressed in a red velvet dress and wore heavy blue eye shadow.

“I’ve been expecting you,” she with a strong Cajun accent. “Welcome, my name is Madam Chejonne, please enter. Quick, your keys.”

She turned to a thin man with a long moustache wearing coveralls.

“Pierre, take these keys and make the van disappear in the swamps. You two, follow me.”

She took the teens to a backroom, moved aside a heavy rug and revealed a secret trapdoor, inside was a tunnel.

“You will follow this tunnel, for a mile, there you will meet your contact, Jose, who will smuggle you into Florida. ”

“So, are you two religious refugees or privacy advocates?” Asked Jose as he placed white strips of tape on the back of their necks. The tape was a specialized blocking device that fed misinformation into the privacy network and masked their identities.

“I think outlawing privacy and planting Id chips into people is wrong,” said Sarah.

“Porque?” asked Jose.

“It’s like when the Nazis tattooed prisoners, except in school they tell us it never happened.”

“I’m all of the above,” said Joe.

“Ok, get into the sacks,” said Jose as he handed burlap bags to each teen. “I’m going to fill them with coffee beans. Here, keep this breathing tube in your mouth. It will be a six hour drive to the coast, where a boat waits to take you to Cuba,” said Jose as he pulled opened the back door on his suburban twenty-wheeler.

“Why do we have to be in sacks?” asked Sarah.

“We’ve got one checkpoint and the beans should cover your smell,” replied Jose.

Peaceland security required all coastal access to go through an inspection checkpoint. Jose slowed his rig to the examination platform.

“Regular shipment of coffee to the resorts,” said Jose.

“Step out of the vehicle,” said the inspector.

He activated a laser that traced the truck.

“We’ve got two hot spots inside,” said the inspector.

“Send in the dogs.”

Busted, Jose pulled out a shock gun and shot the inspector in the foot, then he climbed into the cab and took off. He drove a short way, where a pre-planned pick-up car awaited. He pulled to the side of the road. The car’s passengers jumped out, grabbed the sacks with the kids and threw them into the backseat of their car. Jose then sped off and the car went the opposite direction.

In five minutes they were at a beach. The driver was an elderly Cuban woman, she cut open the bags, and gently helped the teens out, a speedboat rumbled at the end of the dock.

“Hurry, the boat,” the nameless woman whispered in a motherly manner.

As the boat pulled away, Sarah and Joe heard her voice in the wind.

“Fly away little birds, go and be free."