THE REBEL

Long-legged and wild-eyed, with a beard that stretches down to his chest, THE REBEL certainly fits the part of the revolutionary figure. His photo has been everywhere in recent months, since he led a takeover of his county's courthouse and declared the re-establishment of "The Free State of Jones." 

This, of course, wasn't the first time that Jones County has declared itself independent. 

The first was in 1864, when a small band of Mississippians seized control of their county and declared independence—not from the United States, but from the Confederacy. Their leader, Newton Knight, shocked the country with his defiance of the Confederate leadership and his insistence on living openly with his wife, a black woman.

THE REBEL quotes Newton Knight as his inspiration. "Old Newt said, 'There’s lots of ways I’d rather die than by bein' scared to death,' and that's my motto too."

It was that speech from Senator Herring that did it for us. 

You know, this wasn't too long after the Kobek Demonstration. 

Herring got up there on the courthouse steps in Jackson and told everybody that for "security concerns" he was directing the state troopers to seize any reps they could find within the state's borders. 

We already all knew that they were already deployin' their drone network to watch and intercept anybody going in and out of Mississippi. Herring said we'd be the only rep-free state, to "preserve our way of life." 

What a buncha horseshit. 

You started planning the secession vote right then?

That was the moment I started seriously thinkin' about it. But it wasn't until the Clarion-Ledger came out with their exposé that I knew we could get the people behind the idea. 

You know, Mississippians have always been exploited by the elites down here. To find out that they all had their own reps while at the same time tellin' us we couldn't... it wasn't no different than the Twenty Slaves Law, in my mind. 

Back in the Civil War days, the elites didn't even really try to hide the fact that the rules didn't apply to them. They set up a law so you could avoid conscription in the Confederate army if you owned twenty slaves. I mean, it should've been pretty damn obvious from that point on that it wasn't no war about "states' rights." It was about protecting the property of men who had a lot to lose. 

This situation—with the Mississippi elite keepin' reps while regular people had to scrape by on their own—it was the same damn thing. 

The people of Jones County didn't like that shit in 1863, and we didn't like it in 2027. So hell yeah, the planning for secession and the re-establishment of our free state started then.

The elites knew how it would look. That's why they tried to keep their reps secret. 

You ask me? They got what was coming to them.

You're referring to the fact that the governor and others in his crew were murdered. 

Yeah. And I see you lookin' at me funny. But you know I've denounced all that violent stuff. My people ain't about that. 

You're saying you weren't involved in the killing that took place.

I'm saying that me and my men have denounced those actions. Whoever did it, that don't reflect on me or on the Free State of Jones.

If you could guess what was going through the minds of the people who did the killings, whoever they are, what do you think they would say to justify it?

Oh, that's easy. They were probably thinkin' of the example set by Newton Knight, back in the Civil War days. You know, he and his men picked off a lot of Confederates. And it worked. They got control over their local government and had a good ol' time. They successfully seceded from The Confederacy. 

Look, killing men is tough. Nobody wants to do it. But you got to, sometimes. 

I was hoping to find some folks who participated in the violence. Maybe to get their side of the story.

Well, that ain't me. 

But I can tell you some stories about what it was like, from somebody who told it to me. 

I know a guy. A buddy. He was the leader of the raid on the governor's mansion.

Tell me about it.

It was June 14, 2027. Bastille Day II, as it has since become known. And there was a party at the mansion. Now, the governor, he don't really live there. It's just a symbolic building. But this night he was usin' it to host a big ol' get-together. 

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My buddy, he had heard about the party through a source he had in the capitol. So he got in a truck with three other guys—all Jones County boys—and they went on over there to see what the governor was gettin' up to. They were pretty sure there'd be a rep at the party. 

You know, even though it was supposed to be a big secret, these state government guys just couldn't help themselves but show off their toys. My buddy figured if he could break up the party and steal the rep from the governor himself, it would send a powerful message to everybody in the state: Nobody is safe. Nowhere is safe. It don't matter how elite you are. You can't keep these machines to yourself. 

Now, my buddy didn't have much of a plan. But he did have guns, and sometimes that's better than a plan. 

He didn't really think he was gonna have to do any killing that night, but that fell apart pretty much immediately after they got into town.

The governor's mansion is right there in the middle of the city. 

There's a little park behind it, with the Cathedral of St. Peter next to it. And St. Peter's gotta nice big parking lot. 

So my buddy and his friends eased up into that lot, and just sat there for a while passing a whiskey bottle back and forth, to calm the nerves, you know. This was about eight in the evenin'. 

Well, they must've looked conspicuous because a patrol car rolled up into the lot with them. Pulled up right beside 'em. 

Cop got out, came up and rapped on the window. 

My buddy had a little sawed-off shotgun inside his jacket. He rolled down the window with his left hand and got his right hand on the gun. 

He really didn't wanna have to do nothin'. 

But the fuckin' cop must've seen something that spooked him because he said, "Show me them hands." 

And my buddy, he just didn't have no choice. He whipped out that sawed-off and put a full spread in that cop's face. Near about took his goddamned head off. The splatter was absolutely everywhere, but my buddy, he just got real calm. 

He said to his guys, "Well, we're in it now." 

And they all got outta the truck. 

Now, if a cop stops answering his radio, they're gonna come lookin' for him sooner or later. 

So my buddy figured if he was gonna go on with this raid on the governor's mansion, he needed to be quick about it. 

My buddy and his boys laid out the dead cop in the backseat of his patrol car. Tried to make it look as normal as they could. But there was little pieces of brain all over the side of the squad car, so basically they just had to hope that nobody came up and looked too close. 

Then they got their guns out the truck and headed up to the mansion. 

There were three or four private security guys hanging around the building. My buddy and his pals decided that they really didn't have too much to lose now that they'd already killed a cop. So they used silenced pistols to take out the detail. 

One of the security guys let out a little bit of a yell as he went down, so my buddy had to put a few extra rounds in him. 

Right around then somebody stepped outside for a smoke. That poor bastard had to sniff bullets too. 

The boys dragged all the bodies off into the bushes, then split up, two men on each side of the building. They didn't want anybody getting slippery on 'em and dipping out past 'em. They switched to their assault rifles. No point in staying silenced for what was about to come next, you know. Then, on the count of three, they busted up into the mansion all at once, shootin' at the chandaliers and makin' a fuckin' ruckus. 

What was the plan at this point? Just kill everyone?

No, no. We just wanted to steal the replicators. Not kill anybody. But there was an equation to this whole thing, which was that anybody left alive would probably call the cops. And that would make it a lot harder for the crew to get those replicators out of there. 

Right. So it's surprising to me that more people weren't killed at the party. 

Oh, yeah, that was pretty lucky. My buddy and his guys didn't have to kill them because none of them had their phones on 'em. Total fluke. The security for the event had asked everybody to surrender their phone before coming into the mansion that evening. The governor didn't want anybody takin' photos or videos of his replicators, right? So they had all of the phones in a locker near the exit. 

So what happened after they ran in?

Well, at first there was just a lot of yelling and shooting and people pissin' themselves. It's hard not to get caught up in the moment in a scene like that. 

Some of my buddy's guys were kickin' rich folks in the guts and havin' a good ol' time. 

But my buddy, he kept his eyes on the prize. Because sure enough, right there in the middle of the room, there was not one but two reps, beepin' and boopin' away. 

They had one of 'em pumpin' out cocktails of all sorts. The other one was punching out bags of pure cocaine. I'm talkin' about a lot of fairy dust. These people were fuckin' covered in it. There was so much booger sugar in that place you woulda thought you was in a Colombian titty bar, not the governor's mansion. 

My buddy found the governor. Grabbed him by the neck and made him kneel in front of God and everybody else in there. And my buddy gave a little speech. 

You know, I wasn't there, so I don't know all the details, but it was something to the effect of, "Y'all done messed up, now. The little people ain't gonna be so little once we have these machines of our own." 

Then he knocked the governor in the face one good time with the butt of his gun, hauled his ass up, and told him to pick up one of those reps and get ready to leave. 

Well, the damn things are too heavy for one man to carry by himself, especially a weak little bitch like the governor. So my buddy picked three other guys out of the crowd and had them help. Two men per machine, hauling both of them out of there at gunpoint. The whole crew eased out of the mansion and back down the street to the parking lot at St. Peter's. 

Once they got there, they loaded the replicators up in the truck, and the governor was begging and cryin'. "Oh please let us go now, we won't say anything," all that. 

My buddy really pitied the man at that point, but he figured that a big part of this mission was about sending a message that nobody was safe. So he went on ahead and blew the governor's brains out. Then told the other three hostages to get back to the party. 

After that, I think they just headed back to Jones county. 

You know, earlier, I asked you what the plan was, right before the gang entered the governor's mansion. 

Right. 

Well, when I asked that question, you said, "We just wanted to steal the replicators."

THE REBEL stares at me long and hard.

I'm just wondering how I should refer to you when I write this story. You were the leader of the group that night at the governor's mansion, right?

I ain't got no more time for this. Get the fuck out of my house.