I drew a deep breath, my steps haggard and limp, as I walked through the jagged ruins of Yester Year. Sweat dripped down my back, making my shirt feel like a second layer of skin. I sat down on one of the charred blocks and looked at the parcel in my trembling hands.
The sun was starting to dip into the West, a sure fire sign that I needed to hurry up. Wheezing, I leaned over and closed my eyes. Just a quick break, I told myself. Then it was another sprint, but I’d be home, and Nana would get her medication.
My eyes fluttered open when a sudden gust of wind brushed my back. It chilled the sweat for a brief moment, and I watched it rip a dead plant from its roost. The light brown thing tumbled around the ruins without a care in the world.
My eyes followed it until it hit the side of a block twice the size as the one I was sitting on. That one had imprints on it. That one was proof that Nana’s crazy stories had actually happened. I didn’t like going near it.
Yester Year. I clutched my side when it started to cramp. The wind tore something white from the old foundation, hurling it my way. I reached my foot out and stepped on it.
“One more minute,” I whispered as I stretched my arm out to grab it. Sometimes you found some good shit from Yester Year, but most of the time it was garbage. I lifted my sandal, and sure enough, it was a tattered cup.
“How did you manage to survive out here all these years?” I plucked it from the ground and inspected the faded wording on it. Nana might like it, I decided, so I stuffed it into my satchel.
I frowned when I looked at her parcel. I don’t know how we’re going to get the next batch. Getting this one was hard enough as it was. We were running out of scrap medal. Minute up. I clutched the precious bundle against my chest and broke into a sprint.
I needed to get the hell home before curfew.
The ground was already rumbling with their monolithic monsters—I could feel it in my feet. It was time to pump my legs as hard as I could. Pain throbbed everywhere my body could feel it. No pain, no gain.
My neighborhood appeared in the horizon a few moments later. Its shabby roofs quelled the rising fear brewing within. The old trees, vacant husks that clawed up at the brown sky like silent horrors, mocked my half crazed sprint. This stupid drought, I thought. It’s making them lash out.
On the flip side, they had to give us more rations whenever things got bad. Where and how they got those rice cakes jammed packed with calories, I would never know or understand. Nothing grew in these parts. Nothing.
“Please stop wasting your resources on me,” Nana rasped, her voice wavering with each word. She stared at her lap as my dad dropped two pills into her palm.
Closing my eyes, I started counting. Thirst was beginning to scrape its way through my veins to the point of no return. My throat felt parched and scratchy, like a wool blanket.
“You are almost out of copper, Ryan,” she said. “This is the last trade on my behalf. I’m eighty years old. You and Karla have many years left in you.”
“You’re my mother!” Dad placed a hand on my shoulder, jarring me from my trance. I moved out of the way to watch him kneel before her. He took her hand and kissed it.
“You protected us,” he murmured. “I was ten, but I remember. I remember how you sheltered me and Mike, how you hid us when the Black Shirts kept bombing us.”
I walked away. I hated it when they got like this. Those two never learned to just shut the hell up about the past. No one thought about the second civil war anymore. No one cared. As long as the Feds kept bringing us those sweet rice cakes and water, it didn’t matter.
No one cared about some orange weirdo dictator from fifty years ago. Not a damn person. Dad was just a baby back then! I stopped at my room and rubbed my temples. It was the thirst. Oh please let us get an extra bottle of water tonight. Please.
I walked into my room and picked up my tablet, well it used to be Nana’s, but I liked to pretend I was the fucking shit with it sometimes. I walked over to her old desk and sat down.
“Oh yes, Ma’am. Numbers are in your favor. Your scrap yard has tripled.” The words sounded stale and echoed off the walls. With a sigh, I set the relic down and turned on the old radio we had salvaged five years ago.
Trumpets and drums thundered a strong, masculine tune. I closed my eyes. For what it was worth, the Feds were good story tellers when they weren’t busy kicking down doors.
“Good evening citizens, your regularly scheduled program will air momentarily. We have some breaking news.” I sat up straight. They never interrupted Curfew Nights. Never.
“It is with great pleasure to let you hear it from the Marshal himself!” The Marshal’s military jingle rang throughout the room. I held my breath. The Marshal!? He was going to speak!? My heart raced. We had an old picture of him stashed away in Dad’s closet. Nana refused to go near it or eat in its vicinity. We only pulled it out when the Feds delivered our rations.
“My fellow Citizens of the Federated States,” his voice boomed. It was loud, strong, and manly. I felt my cheeks flush. No one knew how old he was or where he came from. He was just there. There to save us all.
“We’ve done it. We’ve found a way to reverse eternal summer, but it requires teamwork like we haven’t seen since the days of old, and by old, I mean before the selfish gene took our ancestors of Yester Year prisoner,” he paused. I leaned closer to the radio, my ears craving every last bit of him.
“Citizens between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five are officially a part of The Marshal’s taskforce and will be conscripted into service immediately. Your families will receive extra rations and water tonight as a salute to service. Only together, can we end this perpetual nightmare that has burned our world.”
What? Conscripted? I bit my lower lip. No. there was no way I wanted to be a Fed. Never.
“My young friends will be taken to my solar facilities to begin manufacturing equipment needed to end this hell.”
Wait.
Work. Manufacturing and building shit. That didn’t sound like driving tanks and kicking doors down to me.
I sucked in a deep breath and exhaled.
“Your families will continue receiving extra rations, water, and medical care until the deed is done, and when it is done, there will be no need to scrimp and scrounge just to make ends meet. Your children and grandchildren will have Falls, Winters, and Springs! Together, the Federated States will prevail!”
Trumpets blared as a canned applause poured through the little radio. I looked at my watch. What perfect bloody timing.
7:59.
I grabbed my diary and one of Nana’s dolls from Yester Year.
8:00.
Bang, bang, bang!
“IT’S THE FEDS, OPEN UP! RATIONS, WATER, AND WE’RE HERE FOR KARLA WALTERS. OPEN UP.”
It was time to go.
