Greetings, everyone! It’s been a busy week on my end, but you don’t want to read about working and…working; you know, the mundane in and outs of life. Enough of that! I am happy to announce that The Year is Now is available on Amazon!
That time I read an excerpt…And since I recorded this before making this post, I’ll put an Amazon link below it too (as stated in the video):
I’ve been on an anime kick lately, so I took a shot at drawing the two leads from my book. I am thrilled with the results. Elly is on the left, and Major Pierson is on the right.
Because I’m cool like that, here is a sneak peak at The Year is Now. I’ve uploaded the first chapter! Please note that the excerpt has been formatted for the all awesome and knowing Internetz. 😉
into chaos
Copyright © 2014 by M.L Crabb
All rights reserved. This excerpt or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.
Emerson Jay, the twelve year old who lived across the street, darted past, his face bursting with mirth. Snickers escaped his thick lips as he dove behind a green shrub. Elly Reynolds ignored him as she continued walking down the sidewalk…The kid was always destroying something or screaming wildly at nothing.
Pip, pip, pop!
Elly crouched and darted behind someone’s mailbox. Her heart stopped for an instant.
Pip, pip, pop!
She pressed her pale palms to her ears, clutching waves of her red hair with her fingers. Where’s my flak vest!? Where’s my helmet!? her mind roared. Her mouth opened as her throat demanded air. Her breaths came in deep gasps as a persistent ring blocked the cicadas, Emerson’s vile laughter, and the firecrackers out. That little…
Lowering her hands and pressing her right palm to her vibrating heart, she stood up and took three trembling steps onto the sidewalk. The brat had no idea. No idea. She closed her eyes and continued on her way. It was best to just ignore him. He had figured her secret out one day when she was home alone. Her roommate Derrick was out shopping for fireworks. And she? She was standing on the lawn as the national anthem blasted from Derrick’s surround sound system inside.
If there was a way to prepare herself for the madness of the Fourth, listening to the steady boom of cymbal crashes near the end seemed like a sure bet. Much to her horror, it produced the opposite effect. Emerson had seen it all, and ever since then, he went out of his way to scare her.
If he only knew…If he only saw the things—Elly drew in a quick breath. The humidity was starting to force a sweat on her. She grabbed her long braid with her left hand and fanned her face with the end of it before letting it fall against her damp back.
An electronic pop zipped above her head, and she felt an invisible shockwave straighten the curly strands of her long hair. It was as if the little prankster had sprinted past her, yanking her braid as he went. The woman came to an unsettling stop. There was a flash behind Love ‘N Lice, the giant oak tree one block away. She and Derrick had always called it that. The local teenagers had an addiction for parking themselves beneath its spiderweb of gnarly limbs and locking themselves in wet, messy kisses. The top half of the massive tree towered behind a two story brick house as if waiting to devour it.
“Emerson!” she snapped, whirling around.
“Crazy L’s got no job! Crazy L’s got no job!” the kid sang. He scampered away. A frown penetrated her features as she continued walking. His jape was sadly true, but it wasn’t always that way for civilian Elly. She used to work at the local call center as a telemarketer. A shudder ran through her body. In some cases, quitting is justified…She glanced at Love ‘N Lice again and realized that her steps were taking her towards the pop. Her eyes squinted when something flashed behind the giant oak.
Twelve year old boys didn’t have the capacity to produce lightening…in broad daylight, no less.
A faint, electric wheezing began emanating from the flash. A glow of light shined through Love ‘N Lice’s gnarls and knots. The muscles in her gut tensed as she neared the sound. It was louder and more distinct now, almost like the persistent whine of a mosquito interested in her earlobe. Elly could see the phenomenon when she got closer, and it looked like a giant dome.
It engulfed the shabby front yard of the house closest to Love ‘N Lice. Crusty old Don McDermit’s maze of rusty car parts, metal scraps, and chewed newspapers were buried beneath the translucent thing. The woman neared the strange sight. The color had shifted, and it slipped into a hue her eyes had trouble deciphering. Her head began to throb at the iridescent grey and the incessant humming. Her heart went cold, and the back of her neck was slick with a chilly wetness.
Elly headed straight for it.
The air was unseasonably dry; there was no humidity within two feet of the dome’s outer edge. She knew that McDermit’s tire collection should have been right in front of her, but his stash was not there and nor was his unkempt lawn. Sand dunes sat in their place. It was like peering into a sandy snow globe. Elly sucked in a deep breath. What am I seeing!? Before she could backtrack and let her mind come up with plausible answers, the dome crackled and expanded with a piercing clang.
The thing engulfed her, swallowing her whole. Hot, dry wind snapped at her cheeks and limbs, knocking her down. Her face hit sand. Elly shuddered, scrambling herself to her feet with an angry shove. Sand! Sand! Sand! It was everywhere! Where rows and rows of familiar brick houses and Love ‘N Lice had been, was sand—sand in all its bland khakis, creams, and light browns. The wind kicked up again, but this time she was prepared. She braced her feet and shielded her face with her forearm.
It was hot, unwelcoming, and…it looked like Iraq.
Elly screamed.
* * *
Her chest heaved, and she gagged on hot sand. Elly spat, but it hardly was a relief. Spittle dripped from the corner of her mouth, and wet granules of grime caked her lips. She closed her eyes and mouth. Feet planted in the sifting mess, she forced her thoughts to be silent, blanketing herself in an invisible glass jar. Her mind opened her ears so that she could see. Though five years as a civilian had tarnished her view of the world, the woman remembered. The gritty wind whipped at her small frame. Sand shifted around her, altering the dunes and covering her feet.
It felt as though a thousand needles were poking her face, arms, and hands. A mechanical whine interrupted it all, and she felt a heavy shadow fall over her body, pressing down with a certain, unknown doom. Not Iraq, her mind wailed. Please, no! The whine grew louder. Elly forced her eyes open, dropping into a crouch. She looked up. Her hands went cold.
A black car hovered above her. It had slats shaped like miniature airplane wings where the tires should have been. An emblem marked its side. Elly could not make out the details of it as the thing lowered itself to the ground. It landed on the dune in front of her with a sigh. The emblem slid away, creating an opening. She froze. Where was she? Flying cars were something unfeasible, yet…A face peered through the opening, and a man stepped out.
He stared at her, but through the grit and wind, she could not read his expression. His shoulders were broad, but his arms hung loosely at his sides. He was clad in some sort of dark uniform.
“An outlander,” he shouted. “It’s just an outlander!” His accent was American, but it had an antiquated bite. It was mixture of keen, JFK sharpness and charming WWII era wit. Elly saw him turn his head to someone unseen. He moved towards her, extending his right hand. She wanted to back away, but her legs wouldn’t move.
“I come in the name of the Emperor,” he called over the wind. “Outlander,” he lowered his hand to her, and she took it. Shaking, she allowed him to lead her into the flying car. The interior was dark, but it was soft and plush. The door with the emblem on the outside of it slid shut, silencing the air and blocking out the pesky sand. The man sat beside her. It was hard to make his face out in the dimness. She frowned at how darkly the windows were tinted.
“Take us to Lenta, Jones,” he said to the driver in the front seat, a squat woman with orange hair. “I’ll see to it that she’s processed.” Elly closed her eyes and pressed her palms against her thighs.
“Poor thing. She doesn’t even know where she is. Little lost Outlander…so docile and sweet.” She blinked at the man’s comment. Had she heard him right? His mouth was as fixed as the darkness of the windows.
“As I was saying,” he began. He lifted his left hand and tapped a panel on the back of the empty passenger’s seat in front of him. A soft, yellow glow lightened the back seat. A smile crossed his face. “Lucky we found you. The deserts of Athena take no prisoners.” He was a handsome man, she thought. His hair was slightly disheveled, and it matched the light tan of the sand. He ran his fingers through it, his blue eyes focused on her. The smoothness of his skin and the stencil of his perfect face marked him to be in his early twenties.
“In the name of the Emperor, Outlander,” he began. “Do you wish to rejoin your brothers and sisters of society and serve His Will until the end of your days?” The hell? The corners of Elly’s mouth twitched. She closed her eyes. Is he high or something?
“Such a sweet, poor thing! She is ignorant of civilization itself!” She blinked. Her palms began to sweat. Elly could feel her knees bang against each other. It was as if they had been turned into a pair of ping pong balls gone awry, bouncing all over a freshly mopped hardwood floor.
“My knees,” she croaked.
“It’s okay. Do you consent to be taken into His great city of Lenta to rejoin your brothers and sisters of society?” The man placed a large hand over her lap.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Witnessed,” said the driver with a yawn. “Now that that business is over with, can we continue with something a little less-”
“Mundane? As long as it doesn’t frighten her.” The man removed his hand from her lap and flicked a splotch of sand off of his sleeve. “I’m Lieutenant Braxton, but you can call me Jason.”
“Sergeant Jones,” the driver yawned again.
“El-Elly,” Elly stammered. Was she starting to go crazy!? Had she been knocked out by that electronic pop!?
“Not a normal name for an outlander, but I like it. It’s very civilized.” Jason flicked the dust off of his pants. It was then that she was able to get a better look at his uniform. The service jacket and slacks were a deep blue, almost a royal navy. The jacket was a fitting number that had a seam which ran from the top of his right breast all the way down to the hem.
A grey collar was fitted around his neck, slanting at an angle where it narrowed into the seam. Three silver clasps graced it with a professional sheen. A black leather belt ran around his waist. The buckle was silver and had some sort of emblem on it. On his shoulder boards was a pair of golden bars engraved with curly lines. He smiled at her.
“She’s checking you out, man,” Jones snickered.
“Sergeant,” Jason quipped. “I believe we left off on a certain bet…” Elly slid, hitting the left side of the car as it lurched into a turn. “That’s fifty credits and that forbidden bottle of whiskey you have stashed away.”
“Damn those Giants,” Jones thrust her thumb over her shoulder. “Don’t start talking about-”
“She doesn’t even know what forbidden whiskey is,” Jason winked. “Fifty credits when we get to Lenta.” Elly drew a deep breath and covered her embarrassing knees with her hands. Maybe if she held onto them hard enough, they would stop trembling towards each other.
“Tired?” Jason asked. Before Elly could lie and say no, a silver tube shot from his right hand and pricked her neck. She opened her mouth and met night.
* * *
Just a little fix me up.
Lieutenant Braxton doesn’t know what he’s doing.
Elly opened her eyes with a groan. She was lying on a hard, sterile bed. Did someone take her to the emergency room? Her eyes shot open. GODS, NO! That was not something she could afford. The woman bolted into a sitting position and threw her legs off of the narrow hospital bed she had been unwittingly slumbering in.
“Hey, hey,” a pair of strong hands grabbed her shoulders, stopping her from sliding off the bed. “Not so fast. We haven’t processed you yet. There is still your psychological and ability aptitude test and interview.”
“I decline,” she said. They can’t force stupid tests on me unless my life depends on it, and last time I checked…She looked down. The only thing amiss with her body was the fact that someone had undressed her, washed her, and had put her in a cotton hospital gown.
“You…can’t…decline,” the doctor said. Thick brown hair curled at the sides of his temples. He looked at her through a dainty pair of half-moon glasses.
“I can on the grounds that I can’t fucking afford it,” she shoved her shoulder forward in an attempt to free herself, but he held his grip. His mouth dropped open, and his eyes widened.
“My dear…” he wiggled his nose. “What is this nonsense? All that grows for the Emperor goes to the Emperor.” He shook his head. “You truly are an outlander. There is no charge for health services. We are part of the Empire Defense Budget, but…” he shook his head again. “Never mind. They are going to test and interview you so that you can go to vocational school and serve the empire as your skills dictate.”
It wasn’t a dream!? It wasn’t a bloody dream!? Elly shifted and scowled when the persistent doctor kept his grip on her. Her eyes scanned the little hospital room. There was no telling what the metallic devices stacked upon each other in neat columns were, or if they were even designed for medical use. Elly had never been one for doctors.
“What…what is an outlander? You keep calling me that.”
“The injured left over from the Great War,” he said, letting go. Elly remained still. When he looked her over, satisfied that she wouldn’t run on him, he continued. “The village you originally grew up in is a special reserve the empire has given your people.”
“Um…” she trailed off. “ Yes….?” The woman drew her arms across her chest. “Can I have my clothes back?”
“No. We have some new ones for you.” The doctor moved to one of the many steel cabinets lining the far wall and pulled something out of a drawer. He returned and placed an army green bundle onto her lap. “I’ll leave you to change and will escort you to the testing center when you’re done.”
Once he left, Elly was free to unleash her thoughts as she changed. The bundle turned out to be a flattering skirt and business jacket ensemble. The future, she pondered. The strange place had to be the future. How else was she to explain the crazy outlander and emperor business? What about Derrick, Kit, and Avery? Elly clenched her fists, pressing them against the crisp sides of her new skirt.
She would not cry. Not now, at least. She had to get through their stupid tests first…who knew if they’d throw her into a crazy house for being emotional, but when the doctor returned, he was blurry, and wetness had pooled beneath her eyes.
“We are all nervous,” he said with a soft smile. “Trust me. Dr. West is the best at finding a person’s strengths,” he gave her a pat on the back. “He also knows to not assign you to a field that would make you miserable. The Emperor cannot grow that which has trouble taking root.”
“I don’t want to do anything with phones,” she croaked. The doctor nodded and gestured towards the open door. His movements were gentle, as if he were motioning to a child. He led her through a pale hallway lined with offices and posters that spewed the same, weird empire talk he had been spouting moments ago. As they neared the end of the hall, one of the posters caught her eye. It was the simplest of the bunch: a series of white letters on black, “United we stand. Divided we fall.”
At least there was some sense left, she thought. A willowing silence prickled down her spine, causing her to turn. A gap had grown between the pair, and she felt a wave of bewilderment wash over him by the awkward way he was holding his shoulders and tilting his head at her. Elly turned and hurried down the hall to catch up. He led her to the door at the end on the right side. A sign was plastered onto it, “P.A.A.T. Testing Center.”
“Here we are,” he opened it and waved to the receptionist on the other side. Elly took a few timid steps forward. “I leave you in good hands. Ah,” he looked up. “Dr. West!”
* * *
Elly lifted a hand to shift the long braid that was no longer there. She wiggled her nose as she let her arm drop to her side. She was now a vocational student, a “voke,” as Dr. West had put it. All vokes had cropped hair. Hers had been cut just below her ears. A permanent draft whispered against her bare neck, causing her to sigh. At least they had given her a French style beret to wear on top of her new do…The purple thing helped make her new cut look presentable and kept any loose waves at bay. Once she had completed her testing and was fitted for a voke uniform, they had sent her on her way. Individual passenger vehicles were a thing of the past; most empire citizens got around using the EPM transit system, a series of fast moving walk ways.
With a frown, she looked up as the people mover continued its trek towards Lenta. The flat slat felt slow as she stood on it, but West had said that it reached fifty miles per hour in some places. He had asked her a number of questions that were eccentric, odd, and unexpected. When he caught her falling into fake-to-impress interview mode, as she had always dubbed it, he tapped her knee with his ball point pen and started the series of questions from the beginning. After three rounds of West’s seemingly pointless game, she had been given a written test on a computer. It wasn’t the sterile, standardized sort of mathematical and essay bore she had expected.
What shape comes next? It would ask after displaying a pattern. If this gear turned left, which way would all other gears turn? Which way would you have to crank Gear X to…and so on. In the end, Dr. West congratulated her with the purple beret and said that purple was the rare color of a renaissance man. Her training would begin tomorrow in Lenta. She’d spend a year as a voke, learning her trade. He had given her a chit card with fifty credits on it and sent her on her way.
Elly gazed at the gigantic glass tube which encased the flat people mover. It was a bright afternoon, but a cool breeze was proliferating throughout the tube. There were three moving slats in all. Elly stood on the middle one because the others would slow down whenever there was a platform on either side of the tube. Pedestrians waited outside and would step onto one of the outer slats when the platform doors slid open. She noticed that all of it was timed in intervals.
The middle slat was fastest; though, she had to shift when go-getters would hurry past her. Everyone wore a business suit of sorts, but they were similar to hers in that they were cut to be uniforms; they had that strict, military vibe. Along the way, she spotted a few vokes in army green: a young man in a white beret, a girl with a baby face in a green beret, and a shy man in a brown one who kept staring at his feet.
Her chit card sent a jolt through her leg as it vibrated in her skirt pocket. Elly jumped, blushed, and pulled it out. The chit card was like a slim smart phone in all ways but one. It lacked the ability to make calls. With a sardonic laugh, she peered at its black surface and touched it with her thumb.
Lenta Platform in 1 mile, it read. Get off on your right in–There was a timer on it which was counting down from two minutes. The woman looked up. The three slats moved in an eerie unison, and she could see the next platform zooming towards her. Her throat went dry. Get off on your right…The words whirled around her mind.
She had to cross from her slat to the one to her right.
At fifty miles per hour.
Wait…she had crossed it before, right? But…when she had first stepped onto the people mover, her mind was still preoccupied with the fact that she, Elly Reynolds, had somehow traveled to the future…she hadn’t been thinking! She hadn’t noticed anything amiss! Oh gods, just do it before the right one slows down! A groan escaped her lips, and she jumped to the right. Elly lost her balance and fell to her hands and knees.
The chit card vibrated a second time just as the right slat started to slow down. Drawing a deep breath, she forced herself to her feet, ignored the stares shot her way, and stepped onto the platform. A man in grey snickered as he brushed passed her.
“Silly voke,” she thought she heard him mutter.
Elly felt her face burn. She pulled at the hem of her jacket. The platform was a small station that looked like an airport terminal. It was decorated in bland shades of grey, blue, and snoring pastels. The carpet was even made of the same, stiff stuff as the ones in airports. There was a small trash bin sitting beside the first row of chairs. Several people were lounging in them, playing with their chit cards and reading from e-readers, all the while casting lazy glances at the sliding glass doors. What is with the uniforms? Sure, they were wearing different colors and ensembles, but…they all had that feel—it was a gut instinct. Elly swallowed.
A row of windows lined the back wall. They were curved at the edges in an attempt to make them look like miniature tubes. A female attendant standing behind a counter on the left side of the room waved her over. The pretty woman took her chit card and scanned it with a black barcode scanner. When it beeped, she handed the chit card back.
“Welcome to Lenta. I’ve included a map,” she said, smiling and revealing a set of perfect teeth. Elly studied her. She was wearing a bright blue business suit with a white and yellow striped ascot. A copper name tag rested over her left breast. “Sandy,” it read.
“Thanks,” Elly stammered.
“The exit is that way,” Sandy said, gesturing to Elly’s left. She looked and spotted a white door which had a dull glint to it. Plastic.Nodding her thanks, she headed for it.
The attire in Lenta was much more varied than that which she saw in the hospital and people mover. She spotted an array of retro skirts cut at steep angles, skin tight tops with large collars, sequence, and even platform shoes. A woman wearing a purple miniskirt and matching top walked past. The sleeves were long and flared at the end while her white collar glistened in the sunlight.
Elly moved forward, towards a large, open park she had found on her map. Her vocational school wasn’t far from it. She pulled her chit card out, pressed on the image of the park with her thumb and followed the subsequent electronic red line until she came to a large plot of grass. A cement amphitheater had been sunk into it several yards away. A large statue of a man rested in front of it. His vacant stone eyes gazed over the pedestrians strolling beneath them. Lenta’s skyline blanketed the horizon behind him. There was something oddly familiar about the way the tall buildings were laid out before her.
I’m just crazy, she thought, bringing her attention back to what was directly around her. Food carts and vendor tables were organized into neat rows on either side of the park. Huge, flatscreen televisions blanketed the high rising walls behind the vendors. Much to her displeasure, they were black with silence. Elly stuffed her chit card back into her pocket and headed down the amphitheater steps.
Laughter rang from one of the vendor tables near the end of row closest to her. Children chased each other in the open area of grass at the bottom of the amphitheater. A woman selling ice cream cones flirted with a customer. Elly snickered as the man cleared his throat and tried to decline the free cone with a polite shake of his head.
All of the pleasant background chatter came to a halt when the big televisions came to life. Trumpets and drums blared from unseen speakers as an emblem appeared on the black screens. Elly craned her neck to gaze at the one nearest her. The emblem, undoubtedly the same one she saw on the flying car, was a white eagle with its wings spread open. Blood dripped from the tips, and its claws clutched a nuclear missile. Green leaves fell around the eagle, turning to ash when they got near the claws. The entire thing was circled with a golden band. The band was engraved with the words, Peace reigns. Society thrives. Annihilation slumbers.
The trumpets and drums melted away, making room for a melody. The air grew hot with excitement, forcing Elly to tear her eyes from the screen. People were snapping their feet together at attention and pressing their right hand against their hearts. Elly would have hesitated, but something dreadful had stirred within that unanimous display of patriotism, and she was compelled to mimic the pose.
When the anthem ended, the screen shimmered, and a wall crumbling with age and tarnished by graffiti replaced the emblem. Spray paint covered the spots that were still standing. The neon, bubbly words and large cartoon faces were artsy in her opinion, but she knew their meaning well enough. Three men sprinted from the left side. They were brandishing 9mm pistols and shouting at something unseen. Their faces were hidden by dirty bandanas and baseball caps.
Two men emerged from the right, dragging a squirming mess of a person between them. Curse words were spouted, and the scene melted into chaos as the five men with bandanas met the sixth with savagery. The scene faded into the eerie emblem. A male voice boomed,
“This is what the world would be without the empire. The hand that works and the hand that feeds is the hand that loves.” The emblem disappeared. A crisp newsroom took its place. Two anchors, male and female, in maroon business jackets sat behind a large desk.
“This week is a special one,” the male said with a grin.
“It always is, Ron! It marks the anniversary of the Nobel Treaty and the birth of our empire, and boy, are there some festivities in Lenta,” the woman brought her hand onto the desk with a slap and laughed, a loud, obnoxious chirp. Elly’s mouth twitched. It was clear, from the way her gigantic smile was plastered over her face, that she was already partaking in the bottled sort of “festivities.”
“May emperor Diego Clinton’s reign be a prosperous one! Twenty two years and counting! It’s not the year 0422 for nothing! Back to you, Ron.”
“Before we update you with the festivities and schedules, we have a bit of news,” Ron began as a frame of video footage appeared in the top left corner. “A creeping twelp was arrested today and is scheduled for immediate termination.” The frame displayed a teenage boy screaming as he sprinted away from a black hover car. His expression was contorted into a horrific mess of rage. He fell forward with a sudden lurch. “As you know, it is illegal to be a twelp, and the awful phenomenon is normally found and taken care of at birth. All twelp infants are taken to the capitol city, where the twelp gene is terminated. It is illegal to harbor a twelp and to tamper with test results.”
“Well that’s one creep off the streets!” the woman chimed with a laugh. The crowd laughed with her.
“Indeed, Barb. I know I will be sleeping a bit more soundly knowing that the creeper is scheduled for termination.”
Elly shuddered and turned away. He was just a boy! She saw that others were losing interest and returning to their previous activities. What…what was a twelp!? The boy looked no different than any of the other people standing and staring at the television screens.
“Sheltered, eh?” the man who had rejected the ice cream lady sidestepped beside her with a snort.
“Not surprised, but you’re a renaissance man, so you’re smart enough to understand the implications…no matter how much your parents spoiled you rotten.” He lowered his voice. “They spy on thoughts and thrive off of nightmares. He may look just as innocent as you, Renaissance Man, but believe me, he is not. He’s a killer.”
Elly shied away from him, stepping back and mumbling something about checking out the statue. He issued her a mocking bow accompanied with a sneering laugh. She turned and broke into a jog until she was safely hidden away at the other side of the statue’s base. Freak…Her mind reeled at it all.
This wasn’t her century, and she had to remind herself that.
She moved around to the front of the statue. By the time she made it to the memorial plaque in front of it, the disturbing man was buying a beaded bracelet from an iron faced man in a black baseball cap. She could almost hear the expressionless vendor’s flat lips and hard eyes making whispers of disapproval. Good, Elly’s mind hissed. She turned her attention to the copper plaque in front of her.
The empire’s seal crested the top. A shrill coldness gripped her face as her eyes darted to the words engraved into the copper. Elly barely got through the first line before a silent rage tightened her chest and set fire to her forehead. It was one of those rare, harrowing moments when her mind forgot all else as her body went blind. The next thing she remembered was sobbing in her newly assigned dorm room at the vocational school. The line had been simple enough…
“His Honorable Majesty, First Emperor Harry Truman, who reigned from A.D. 1945 to A.D. 1953.”
She wanted to go home, and she wanted to go home now. How could they mistake President Truman for their first damned emperor!? The current year was Y.E. 0422, and who knew how many years she had been tossed through to get there. Was his presidency so long ago that these crazy people didn’t know any better!? A sob raked her body when she remembered the harsh, militaristic tones of the empire’s anthem. The fanatical way the people had snapped to attention…The brainwashed news anchors…Compared to that, being a poor civilian in a Capitalistic society didn’t seem that bad after all.
At the thought of the rant she posted on her blog just the morning before, Elly buried her face into her pillow. This weekend she was supposed to help Derrick set up the surprise party he had been planning for his boyfriend…They were going to deck out the house in black and yellow, the colors of Jim’s favorite football team. Elly was going to bake the cake while Avery, Derrick’s puffy Pomeranian, was going to bark for a lick of the wooden spoon. Kit was going to bat the streamers around, much to Derrick’s frustration—
Another sob escaped her throat, and the small woman cried herself into a deep, nightmare ridden sleep.
* * *
A gentle tapping stirred Elly from the fanged, hooded beings chasing her. She sighed and winced. Soreness tightened her throat, and her face stung. She flicked the crusted sleep from her eyes with her thumb and stumbled out of her bed. The sound was coming from her door. She crossed the small room and opened it. A dark skinned girl with straight black hair that framed her face stood in the hall. Her large, brown eyes were warm as they gazed down at Elly. She was wearing the same army green uniform, complete with the purple beret.
“Hi…I got you a present,” the girl stammered, thrusting a brown box forward. “Um…I…I…” she continued. “Oh Emperor, please be my friend,” her shaking hands seemed to say when her mouth moved to continue its awkward speech. “I…I heard you crying…last night.”
Elly’s eyes widened, and she found herself waving the girl in. Closing the door behind her, she took the box from the girl’s trembling hands.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “So, you heard that, huh?” She moved to the little couch that rested at the opposite side of the room and beckoned to the other woman.
“Yes…I did…” she paused. “My name is Diana.” Elly sat down, placing the box on her lap. Diana sat beside her with a nervous smile.
“Elly,” Elly said. How loud was I crying last night!?“I’m, um sorry. It’s just that I’ll never see my home again, and there are people I will never-” she cut herself short and forced herself to look at Diana’s box. Elly removed the lid with a shaking hand. Inside was a 12-inch doll with poseable arms, and legs, dressed in an elaborate, white military uniform. Bile swept over her mouth.
It was Harry Truman.
His plastic face stared up at her with a stagnant smile.
“I…I know it’s childish,” Diana frowned. “But…my dad got me one when I was little, and it always cheers me up when I’m down…Here,” Elly let her lift the doll out of the box. “If you press his right hand, he talks.” Diana’s large eyes held a certain sadness to them, it was the pretty way her long lashes drooped from her eyelids. “You’re from the moon colony, aren’t you?” Nodding to herself before letting Elly answer the question, Diana passed the doll into Elly’s hands.
“My dad was stationed there, but he requested to be moved back to Earth after I was born. He didn’t want me getting stuck and not being able to graduate on time. No one wants a late start on voke school. I’m nineteen right now; otherwise, I would have been twenty-five.” Diana paused and ran her dark hands over her smooth skirt. “Do you miss the moon?”
“I was an outlander,” Elly said…Whatever that is. She lifted Truman, standing him upright in her hands, and pressed his right hand with her thumb and index finger.
“Because it took the apocalypse that became the Second Great War for us to realize that humankind must end the barbarism that started the war.”
The doll’s voice echoed in the quiet room. Elly cocked her head. As much as she wanted to toss the toy across the room, she didn’t. Instead, she ran her thumb over his chest and squeezed his hand again.
“It’s my favorite quote ever,” Diana said. “He’s the one who stopped the violence and united the empire. He’s the reason that people don’t kill each other anymore.”
Tell that to the boy on the TV screen, she wanted to snap, but Diana’s gesture was genuine. Even Elly, in all her anger, could see that.
“Are you sure people don’t…lie about it?” she started, biting her lip in a flash of instant regret. “I mean the boy on the TV screen…”
“The creeper? Liars always get caught. His parents should have done the right thing and sent him off when he was a baby. I hope they are arrested and put on trial. They’re the ones who could have prevented his termination.”
“I don’t…get it…” her eyes studied the doll without really seeing it. Its face was just a blur.
“They can’t control themselves because their minds are bombarded with nightmares they can’t help. He would have killed…or worse…” Diana shuddered. Elly pressed her lips together. Maybe it was best to not pursue the matter. “Don’t worry, creepers make up less than five percent of the entire population.” Diana sighed and looked up in thought. “My brother calls them zombies if that helps.”
Elly rose, ignoring the box as it slid off of her lap. She crossed the room and sat Truman onto her nightstand. Zombies. That boy was not a zombie… “It does” she lied. “We outlanders tell stories about zombies.” Maybe if she believed her own falsehoods, she could adapt and forget about 2012.
“My dad is really proud of me being a renaissance man,” Diana beamed. “He’s taking me out to dinner. Want to come?” Before Elly could say no, the girl hopped to her feet with an excited clap. “We are the few! We are masters of all trades, jacks of none!” Masters of all trades? The only thing Elly was a master of was making all the wrong choices. Wetness hurt her face. To think, that at one point in time, I was called Sergeant….She only had herself to blame.
“Oh gods,” she whimpered. “I’m crying in front of you…” No. She was not a master of all trades, and she would never be. “I’d like to go,” she buried her face into her palms. I WANT TO GO HOME!
