Have you ever been blamed for a crime you are 100% sure you had nothing to do with? Even if it’s a crime that no one could care less about, it still feels pretty bad, doesn’t it? Well, what if it’s a crime that lands you in jail? What then?

Well, that’s what happened to my brother Edward. He was arrested for stealing over three thousand dollars worth of merchandise from a big name store. Only thing is, he didn’t. But this isn’t 2005 anymore, where things like a trial are automatically given, oh no, it’s 2025, where the big companies pretty much run the world. The government lost most of its power in 2012, and from there, the shift slowly went to the major corporations; though no one said it out loud, everybody knew who really was in charge.

Now, petty crimes like theft were treated incredibly severely with punishments like jail time straight away. First offense is five days in jail, second offense is a month plus being banned from the store, third is a year in jail, and after that, it gets a little gruesome. That’s how much influence these companies have. And that’s with even small items, nothing big.

Needless to say, over three grand of stuff is definitely a big offense, and my friend Edward is currently serving a three hundred year sentence while waiting for the decision as to whether or not he will die.

Like I said, these companies control everything now, and with the speed at which technology increased and is still increasing, fabricating a fake story for the public is really not a problem for these companies, with visual "evidence" to boot. So for my friend Edward was at the wrong place at the wrong time.

You see, a certain company, a major electronics selling juggernaut got seriously stolen from. The only thing was, they couldn’t find the culprit; he actually made off with the stuff, over a period of a few days. No one really knew how he did it, and it was a very publicized event. So if they ended the investigation without finding the perpetrator, then the company sure would look stupid, and this was not an option. So they picked some guy that basically would be easy to frame because he didn’t have many friends and kept to himself.

Like I said, wrong place, wrong time. And it was wrong, so I’m going to do anything I can to get my brother out. After all, what’s life if you don’t have any family? In case you’re wondering if they just left me alone, well, they didn’t. They tried to get me, but I dropped off the grid for a few years, biding my time. You saw Terminator 3, didn’t you? Yeah, I’m just like John Connor, only I’m not the savior of humanity, just some guy who wants to get his brother out.

So it’s been two years, and I’ve had to move around, but I’m finally going to make my move. Why now? Because I’ve finally gotten to a man on the inside. Gary Summers was his name, and he was pretty lowly in the food chain, but he had something I needed: Access to the prison, a guard uniform, and all the proper identification. Why would he have this? Well, it just so happens Gary is part of a small resistance of people who know of the corruption in the company, and are slowly trying to do something about it. They believe their goals stretch much higher than just outside control. I just happened to come along at the right time for them. I was to meet with Gary to finalize everything in just twenty minutes. I could feel beads of sweat already forming on my forehead; this was a pivotal point in my endeavor. If this didn’t go well, then I would have to start all over.

I was already seated at our appointed place, I was just waiting for him to get there. It was a Star Donalds, a fast food coffee joint. In case you’ve been living under a rock for the past 20 years, you realize that the Starbucks Corporation bought out the McDonalds corporation. So, as you can probably imagine, every McDonalds you ever saw is now a Star Donalds. It’s still really annoying.

Anyway, here I am, sipping on my McCoffee, waiting for Gary Summers to come visit me, and seriously launch my project into the stratosphere. All I can do is pray and hope he shows up.

My watch reads 6:29, so he’s supposed to be here in one minute. My other hand reaches in my pocket and fingers my small pistol, ready, just in case. I’ve never used this particular model, but I’ve shot guns before. How bad could it be?

Lucky for me, when I look up, there sits the man I’ve been waiting for. I don’t know much about him; just that he works for the bad guy, wants to be a good guy, and what he looks like. We’ve only talked on the phone previously, so I was a bit wary. Hence the firearm.

I smiled, and began to reach over to shake his hand.

"Don’t move, or you’re dead."

I froze, my smile vanishing in an instant. "What the fuck is going on? You’re Gary, aren’t you?" I looked kind of silly, my hand stopping midway to him. I quickly looked him over, and was not impressed. He looked less like a revolutionary and more like someone who at eaten at this establishment a few too many times. And he was pretty aged, his black hair showing signs of gray here and there.

"Yes, I am, but I have to make sure you’re who you say you are." He pulled out a small data pad and pushed my thumb down on it.

"Okay, what the hell are you doing?" I asked, the sweat beginning anew on my forehead. My foot began to tap anxiously.

"Haven’t you ever seen any sci-fi movies? Thumb print identification? Man, even with your position, you need to see a movie sometime. Okay…and we’re done." He let go of my arm and I slowly moved it back to my side of the table. "Good, good, everything looks in order. Sorry about all that, but I have to take precautions.

"Yeah, I understand. So, what’s the plan? You got what I need?"

"Of course, of course. You’ll find what you need at the bus stop on Rose and 55^th. It will be in locker number 48. Here is your key. Everything you need will be in there. You do realize this is going down tonight, don’t you? Somewhere around eleven and midnight. There‘s a cell phone in the locker and we’ll call you when it’s time. Be at the location in the locker when it says," Gary said, his chubby hand wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"Yikes, moving fast I see, but as long you get me in there, I’ll get my brother out. You’re also providing a distraction, and a way in, right?"

"Yes, yes, that will be given to you in the locker. I hate to cut it so short, but we’re done here. Good luck, and maybe we’ll talk afterward." With that, he got up, shook my hand, and walked out.

I wasted no time in making way to the bus stop and finding the locker. Opening it up, I smiled seeing all the stuff I needed. There was a uniform, papers, an ID card with my picture, a cell phone, a paper with some notes on it, and a standard issue pistol and a stun gun. I put everything into a duffle bag, grabbed the note, and went off. I was to wait about two hundred yards from the prison, on foot, near a few trees.

I waited until 10:30 and then went to find the spot; fortunately, it was quite easy to find. I changed while I was there; I was getting very nervous now, my brother’s escape finally approaching, assuming everything went according to plan. I ran a hand through my hair and leaned against a tree, my heart pounding in my ears. I nearly jumped when the phone rang, a very soft Nokia ring that had been used for decades.

"Hello?"

"Yes," a deep, gravely voice began, "your window of opportunity will open in five minutes. A prison truck will come down the road in a few minutes; watch for it. This is your ride inside. When inside, find your brother, and we’ll call you again when you should move out. Good luck." The phone went silent, and I went to find my truck.

Sure enough, I heard a soft rumbling and saw a pair of headlights coming my way. It pulled up and slowed to a stop. The driver reached across and opened up the passenger side door. "Get in, slick, we’ve got a schedule to keep."

I hopped in, taking in the driver. He looked just like everyone else there; about six foot, 180 pounds, square jaw, all that kind of stuff. An average guy.

"So, you’re the man I’m supposed to take in?"

"Yeah, that’s me."

"Well, I don’t know what you’re planning, but the money was good for me, but just don’t cause too much trouble, alright?" he said, a wry grin on his face.

"You got it."

We rolled up to the check station, the guard at the gate exchanging a few words with the driver. I was so nervous I couldn’t understand what they were saying until he began elbowing me.

"Hey, your papers man. Identification."

"Oh, yeah, sorry, just day dreaming," I replied, smiling sheepishly, giving him my papers. I held my breath while he looked them over.

"Good enough. Move along fellas, have a good night," the guard opened up the gate.

"You too," the driver said, and just like that, we were in. I followed him inside, and he brought me right to a computer terminal. The screen flashed, and he gave me access to his account. "There you go, find what you need, then just log out using this command, alright?"

"Yup, no problem. Thanks."

He nodded, and then left. I found the prisoner list, and went right to the "S" column, found Summers, Edward. Cell number 1147. I looked where I was at on a map; I was near 3553, so I had some walking to do. I quickly moved off.

I was near the 2200’s when my phone rang again. I checked around for people, saw it was clear, and answered it.

"Yeah?"

"Get ready, in three minutes you’re time is going to start. Then you’ve got probably ten minutes to get him out." The phone, again, went dead. I kept walking, right past about five guards who didn’t give me a second look, and was about twenty cells away from my brother.

An alarm went off, and my heart stopped. I looked around frantically. Had I been found out? What’s going on? A few guards came running at me, and I began to panic. I didn’t know what to do…

…and they ran right by me. I felt a huge sense of relief flood through me, and moved on to my brothers cell. When I stopped in front of his cell, he looked up at me, sighed, looked down, and did a double take at me.

"What?! What the shit is going on? What are you doing here?" he was frantic.

"Getting you out, hold on, I’ll be right back." I ran to the terminal nearby, where the guard was stationed. He was busily typing up something when I whipped out my stun gun and put him down. I quickly found the controls to the cells on the computer screen and opened up, well, all of them on this block. I ripped off my uniform as the inmates began to hoot and holler, running toward the main entrance.

"Edward!" I yelled. "Edward! EDWARD!"

"Here! HERE! HERE!" he was waving at me, and I ran to him, hugging him quickly.

"Finally, I’m getting you out of here." My phone rang as we were moving with the mob, and I picked it up.

"Yes?"

"You’re escape is in the garage; get there, fast, the way is clear." Dead phone, you guessed it.

"Come on!" I yelled, and we were off, toward the garage. We got there without incident. There was a single truck running, with a man motioning us to him.

"Let’s get out of here," he said, smiling, and we got in the back. The truck rumbled off, with my brother and I safe in it. I had finally done it. Now the real work will begin.