Buy a Dolorian

They say that time will heal the wounds
But sadly I'm still missing you.
So I keep moving faster,
Hoping that time moves faster too.

I wish I could buy a Dolorian
And drive to a future where I'm with you.
I'd never go back:
This would just be a memory in the rear view.

But time has a mind of its own,
And instead of letting me leave,
It keeps dripping slowly and
The scars on my heart just won't heal.

The pain makes me want to jump
Off the Empire State building.
Flying through time to when
I had just met you and fallen.

As if time could be in a bottle,
I'd drink it up faster and faster;
Hoping time would disappear
But that only makes it go slower.

If I could meet an angel whose touch
Could zap away the pain,
Or if time could be rewritten
So that you would come back again.

Instead I'm stuck in the storm without you.
I'd fling myself around the sun
To bring our love
Out of extinction.

Maybe somewhere is a parallel universe
Where a version of you holds a version of me.
But I'm stuck in the void with a broken heart
And memories of a love that was not meant to be.

Though it seemed so right,
My time with you
Was never meant to be.
'Twas a wrinkle, a fluke.

In frustration, I'm punching the clocks
Like tenderized meat,
Hanging them out to dry
And making time melt on the trees.

So either I'll have to learn patience
And wait for the right time to come,
Or else I'll be growing daffodils
On my grave with their leaves in the sun.

Utopia - Playing God

Playing God
third in the Utopia series

The young recruit straightened his uniform as they entered the veterinarian building.  The man guiding them took them to the office and began explaining the purpose of this program.  There were papers everywhere and books open and stacked on top of one another, but besides the group of new recruits the office was empty.

The veterinarian recruit quickly raised his hand, “Do we get to see the animals, sir?”

Their guide started at the interruption, mostly because he had not expected to hear the heavily accented vowels of the Northernmost Quarter from a Scientific Research Corps cadet.  “Yes, if you’d like.”  As they entered the main part of the building the guide explained, “Today is one of the more exciting days here at the animal medical center.  One of the females is expected to have a highly anticipated cub, possibly the closest to the first living Saber-tooth Tiger this world has seen in a billion years.”

The recruit curiously approached a group of officers gathered around a small room’s entrance as the guide droned on about the program.  He inserted himself into the group, adjusting his glasses nervously.  Then he saw the most beautiful cat he’d ever seen.  She was long and lean and golden, though she was damp with sweat.  Her eyes were a reddish brown and they looked suspiciously on the intruders.  Her two canine teeth did not quite fit in her mouth, indicating the genetic alteration that had been taking place.

An older man picked up something from her side and she gave a low growl, but it was just a warning.  She soon laid her head back down.  The man turned and the recruit recognized him as the head vet.  “Captain Keag Overstreet, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” the recruit beamed and extended a hand.

Instead of shaking his hand, Captain Overstreet handed him the small bundle he was carrying, “You must be the new vet.  I read your file, Private Skapensen.  You’re one of the most promising recruits they’ve sent me yet.”  Skapensen grinned at the compliment, then looked down at the wriggling thing in his arms.  It was a newborn cub.  Her green eyes were barely open, but her nose sniffed for the familiar smell of her mother.  Instead she smelled the peculiar being holding her and wimpered.  Her canine teeth were quite large and curved like the cruel scimitars of ancient times, but they looked quite out of place on her adorable kitty face.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too,” he addressed the furry thing.  The scientists in the doorway looked on with a mix of jealousy and confusion at the private’s behavior.  “What’s her name?” he asked.

The Captain laughed, “She hasn’t got one.  I’ll give you the honor.”

Skapensen held her up, so he could see what he might name her, instead he noticed the way her nose twitched, making her whiskers bounce.  What to name a Saber?  How about something old-school, like, “Leah!” he exclaimed.

Captain Forrest Skapensen was now printed on the door of the head veterinarian’s office.  The man himself was seated inside; stacks of papers littering his desk, his eyes wandering to the door to where the animals are, and his hand clutching his thick blond curls.

He sighed and turned his attention back to his paperwork.  His pen bounced in his hand.  Leah and Sergeant Patricks should be back from the research lab soon.  Headquarters had ordered that she undergo some tests before they release her into the wild.  Forrest’s head sank down onto his forearm which rested on his desk.  He would miss Leah, it was as if he had to send his daughter to college far away.  He would probably never see her again.  At least he would be able to raise her cub, Dagger.  He smiled at the thought.  The day he was born, one of the privates had remarked that sabers had dagger-breath.  That’s what they all called the cub now.  But he had to get the paperwork done.  He lifted his head and forced his attention to focus on the empty blanks and illegible writing.

Suddenly a private burst through the door, “Forrest!”

Forrest cleared his throat; the private was forgetting protocol.

The private straightened his uniform and stood at attention, “Captain Skaper-enson, sir!”

The captain smiled at how the private stumbled over his name, “At ease, private.  What do you have to report?”

The private forgot to be at ease, “Sergeant Patricks and Leah are back, sir.”

Forrest jumped up from his desk, bounding past the private and through the door.  It was no wonder his privates were always forgetting protocol.  “Sergeant!  How’d she do?”

Sergeant Patricks snapped to attention, but Forrest sped past him to the cage where Leah was.  She was asleep, her breathing was uneven due to the sedatives, but otherwise she looked fine.  “The brass said they completed all the tests and they give you their compliments on her care,” the sergeant reported, but then paused, trying to swallow his nervousness.

Captain Skapensen looked at the sergeant’s face and knew he had bad news.  “Anything else?” he questioned, trying to get Sergeant Patricks to spit it out already.

“They release her this afternoon.”

A grave silence fell, interrupted only by Leah’s heavy breathing.  This was the last time any of them would get to see her.  Forrest struggled to keep the tears inside his eyes.  All the other SRC members held their breath; they knew how much the cat meant to Captain Skapensen.  Forrest knelt down beside the cage and stuck his hand in, against protocol, but he didn’t care.  He laid his hand on her head, she just barely stirred from her sleep, almost acknowledging his presence.  One of the tears escaped, but he quickly brushed it away and stood.  He coughed to remind everyone that there was work to be done and turned back toward his office.  He needed to get the paperwork done and off his desk before the brass showed up to take her away.

Forrest watched the red blip on the screen as he had every day since they’d given it to him.  The officers at headquarters had gotten tired of him constantly calling to ask where the saber was and if she was ok, so they had requisitioned a monitor for him to track her progress himself.  It was the simplest one they had and the map really meant nothing to him, for he had no real concept of the geography outside of the city, but the blinking red dot moving across the screen meant everything to him.  It meant she was still alive and moving.

He had a little bit of paperwork to finish before a check-up appointment that afternoon, so he turned his gaze from the monitor to his desk.  It was amazing, really, that they had been so annoyed by his pestering that they had spent money on something so high-tech as a screen with live uplink to headquarters.  Not much of the Science Station’s money was spent on the veterinarian’s office.  He laughed.  He had to do so much paperwork because of that attitude that it really shouldn’t have been funny.  When the paperwork was finally done, he stood to file it in the appropriate folder and briefly glanced at the tracking screen.  He started, grabbing the screen and pulling it across his desk to get a better look.

The red blip was gone, instead a red message flashed across the screen, “Error: Signal Lost.”  Forrest gasped and grabbed his telephone.

“What’s going on? Why is the signal gone?” he demanded.

The secretary at headquarters addressed him curtly, “Captain Skapensen, it’s under control.  Let headquarters handle it.”  He hadn’t needed an introduction, the secretary knew that peculiar accent all too well.

“I want to talk to the colonel!” he exclaimed.  “I want to know what’s going on.”

Another voice answered him, but it wasn’t the colonel, “Captain Skapensen, we’ve got it under control.  We’ll be sending out a team to find her.”

“I volunteer!  I want to be on the team.”

“We’ll keep you under consideration.”

“No, that’s not good enough.  Let me talk to the colonel!”  The man on the other end hung up.  Forrest frowned and slammed the phone back in place.  He then shuffled through a file and found a little used form, onto which he jotted some information.  He opened the door and called out into the building, “Sergeant Patricks!”  The name reverberated through the building, and soon the man appeared, eyes wide and gasping for breath.

“Sergeant, I’m going to headquarters.  You are granted temporary rank of Captain and will take charge of this office effective immediately,” Captain Skapensen grabbed his hat and keys for one of the jeeps.

Captain Skapensen hardly ever went to headquarters; he was usually more valuable at his station and would send a sergeant to most meetings.  You could see any of the buildings on the compound from anywhere inside the perimeter, but headquarters stood out.  It was glass paneled like a skyscraper in the city, while the other buildings were all simple buildings covered in siding.  They looked like houses from the old times when houses sprawled out around multiple cities in suburbs.  He pulled into the vehicle lot and turned his keys over to the lot patrol.  He strode into the building like he knew where he was going.  He was a captain and therefore had security clearance, but they wouldn’t be happy if they found out he didn’t have orders to be there.  The large conference room where the top brass met could be found without too much trouble, and he went straight in.  The lights were low and huge maps of blinking lights lit up the walls.  He almost walked into another captain.

“Skapensen? What the hell are you doing here?” the captain addressed him abruptly. 

Skapensen was taken aback for a second.  He never let his men use any kind of obscenities when speaking in his office, not even minor ones.  He regained his muster and replied, “I’m here to volunteer for the saber search detail.”

The other captain sighed and threw up his hands, but before he could speak, big booming laughter filled the room.  Colonel Kiriakou Evans approached the two captains.  “We were wondering how long it was going to take you to get down here, Captain Skapensen.”

Captain Skapensen saluted his superior officer.  The two men, though they stood about the same height, were about as different as one could imagine.  The colonel’s uniform fit his broad shoulders and muscular arms exactly according to regulation, but the thin, almost spidery frame of the captain made his uniform hang at odd angles.  His pale skin, so pale it was almost purple in the artificial light, was completely opposite of the colonel’s dark complexion, from which his smile flashed like diamonds encased in obsidian.  “As you were, Captain.”

“Sir, I could be very useful to you.  I know the saber, and you need a veterinarian and medical officer along, too.”

The colonel held up his hand and shook his head, “Captain, we know your qualifications, and that’s why we have accepted your application to the team.”

Forrest’s smile looked as if it was going to pop off his face.  The other captain’s jaw dropped.  Forrest grabbed Colonel Evans’ hand and shook it vigorously, “Thank you very much, sir!”

The team was to leave in the morning and consisted of four people: Captain Forrest Skapensen veterinarian/medical officer, Sergeant Crowe Johnson animal movement expert, the other captain (an electronics expert named Ramsay Tavisham), and Major Levinia Farrar security/sharpshooter officer.  They had a briefing that night where the colonel explained to them their priorities on the mission, “Your number one priority, regardless of the goals of this mission, is to stay alive.  No one is safe in the wild.  The cat will be ruthless and will not hesitate to kill you.”

Skapenson’s hand shot up, “Sir!  In my experience with the sabers and their lion ancestors, they will only attack creatures human sized or larger when provoked.  I think the way we have the mission organized, we will not have any problems with attacks from Leah.”

“This is not just one of your cats, Captain.  Before release, every animal is altered from the docility that they learn in captivity to a more feral attitude more suited for life on the outside.  Please, do not interrupt me again.”

Forrest’s eyebrows furrowed as he slumped down into his chair.  Leah was his cat, and she would recognize him, wouldn’t she?  “Every animal is altered” didn’t sit well with him, and he wondered if there was something they weren’t telling him, something that the higher-ups in the government were not telling about life in the wild.  He tried to shrug it off that evening after the briefing.  He sat in headquarters mess hall with the rest of the team, but the nagging thoughts in his mind kept him from their conversation.  He also did not appreciate Captain Tavisham’s foul language.  When they were driving across the vast plains toward the location of Leah’s last blip, the strange feelings seemed to fill the expanse around him.

By the time they found the first evidence of Leah, Forrest had regained his usual excitement for the task at hand.  Leah had taken down an elderly buffalo and had left the extra meat to the coyotes and vultures.  It was pretty normal for a young cat of Leah’s size, and Forrest was pretty happy that his girl was doing so well out by herself.

They were able to track her fairly well, and Sergeant Johnson said they would catch up to her in a matter of days.  By the end of the fourth day, nothing of much excitement had happened, except that Forrest was thrilled to get to see this much of the natural environment.  As the sun was setting, they found evidence of another kill site.  Major Farrar suggested that they set up camp a little ways off in a thicker stand of trees for protection.  She and Tavisham took the jeep to set up for the night while Skapensen and Johnson investigated the kill site.

“She stopped here alright, but I don’t think this is her kill,” Crowe remarked as he stood from some marks he saw that Forrest couldn’t see in the dimming light.  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was human.”

“The prey?” Skapensen’s eyes widened in horror.

“No, the killer.”

Skapensen gasped.  If humans were out hunting, that meant, “Someone lives out here?”

“I didn’t think it was possible, but it sure seems that way.  See how most of the blood is there under that tree?”  Sergeant Johnson turned around in circles, excitedly pointing to new clues and explaining their significance.  “It’s so obvious, I should have seen it immediately; but I was so sure that there was no human habitation outside the city.”

Forrest thought about the kind of people that would brave this environment every day.  Looking through the trees at the sun as it lowered toward the horizon, he decided that though this place was dangerous it must be an amazing place to make one’s home.  A strong breeze blew from the south and large black clouds encroached on the flaming sunset, painting exactly the irony of beauty and danger that made the wild so exciting.  “We should get to camp before dark,” he pondered aloud.

“You’re right, let’s go,” Sergeant Johnson agreed.

Soon the storm was full-blown and the team huddled in their tent, unable to sleep through the unfamiliar howling.  Thunder crashed in great sudden booms, and rain assaulted the tent from all sides.  Forrest listened to the fantastic noise.  Even though his education had explained to him how all the phenomenon that occurred in nature functioned, it was still extraordinary to see such things in action.

Suddenly, the whistle of the wind increased and another great noise joined it.  The sound seemed familiar to Forrest, but he couldn’t place it.

“Is that a train?” Tavisham asked.

“It can’t be,” Johnson replied, “We’re nowhere near any government train lines.”

It did sound like a train, and the noise approached as if they were on a subway platform and their train was arriving.  Forrest wondered how this could be, when he remembered one of the stories his grandfather told him about some of their ancestors from the old Great Plains.  “It’s a tornado!” he exclaimed.

“You sure?” panic sounded in Tavisham’s voice.

“Fairly positive,” Forrest replied.

“We’ve got to get out of this tent, then,” Farrar jumped out of her sleeping bag and headed for the door.  “otherwise this wind could pick us all up and dump us god knows where.”

They scrambled out of the tent and were immediately hit with the full force of the wind.  The Major’s hair flipped wildly about her face as she and Tavisham ran to the jeep to grab their most crucial supplies.  Johnson began trying to take the tent down, but soon it was blown away.  A green glow lit the sky and Forrest saw the tornado, a tall spinning spire of dark cloud that stood behind the trees.  The trees themselves crashed together in the fury of the wind.  As the branches began cracking and snapping off the trees, Forrest dived for a dip in the ground.  He landed flat on his face and put his hands on top of his head to protect himself from the fast-flying objects that littered the air.  The wind was not so strong down there, but he still felt it whipping across his backside.

The noise was terrific and the rain blew around in the fierce wind.  It seemed an eternity and with each breath, Forrest hoped that he would live to take another.  He felt the trees around him being uprooted and thrown to the ground.  When the wind finally began to subside, the rain began again as thick as a waterfall.  Forrest’s ditch quickly filled with water and he was forced to stand.  A wide, muddy path had been blazed beside him, and it seemed that it was truly a miracle that he hadn’t been killed by a falling tree or flying branch.  A strip of the woods had been torn apart, but the twisted and mangled trees beside it were still difficult to see through the pouring rain.

Johnson appeared on the opposite side of the path, and Forrest followed Johnson in the general direction of the jeep.  Johnson’s uniform was ripped and bloody in several places, and the thick rain obscured him as he jogged toward the jeep.  Forrest trained his attention on the ground in front of him.  As he went to step over yet another fallen tree, he noticed a red coloration in the puddles around it.  He paused and almost stumbled over backwards when he saw that it was Major Farrar.  Her head was bloodied and her neck was twisted to an odd angle.  There was nothing Forrest could do, for she was already dead.

A cry of agony and the Sergeant’s voice calling his name brought Forrest to the jeep.  A gigantic tree had crushed the back side of the jeep and Tavisham’s legs were pinned underneath the two.

“Get me out of here!” Tavisham screamed as Johnson tried in vain to calm him down.

Forrest bent over Tavisham to assess the damage.  “Get the first aid kit, if you can,” Forrest ordered the sergeant.  Tavisham’s left leg wasn’t too bad, cut off the branch that rested just above the knee and it would survive; but the right was almost completely severed by the twisted metal of the jeep that had cracked the bone about halfway up the shin.  His thoughts were interrupted by a short startled scream.  Tavisham panicked and screamed out every obscenity he could muster.  The last thing Forrest had been expecting to see at that moment stood over Sergeant Johnson’s fallen form.  She had gone for the jugular and blood trickled down her fangs.

“Leah?” it was a whisper among screams of agony, like a snowflake falling in a wildfire – crisp, refreshing.  The green blaze in her eyes may have flickered with recognition; but any acknowledgment of her former friend was soon gone with a sizzle, the vapor only adding to the smoke from the fire in her eyes.  She lunged in Forrest’s direction and he pressed himself against the tree.  The fierce saber slashed her victim mercilessly.  Forrest stumbled back from the carnage as Tavisham’s life was torn from his trapped body.  Then he climbed over the tree and left as quickly as he could.  His Leah was as good as dead.  Whatever rabid monster the government had turned her into had completely devoured the calm, collected tigress he once cared for.  Heartbroken and alone, Forrest just wanted to curl in a ball and cry; but he couldn’t.  He would find the people who lived here and warn them about Leah, the saber-tooth tiger.

The rain let up and the forest slowly crawled out of darkness into the morning.  Forrest soon found himself on the edge of a clearing. A small establishment of little log huts and animal hide tents occupied the space and the wind damage was apparent, but not devastating.  He heard voices coming from the tents father along.  He carefully approached the first little log cabin.

“I da!” a small voice exclaimed.  Forrest looked down and was confronted by a round-faced toddler.  “pwess-se?” he asked, extending a small mud pie in his tiny hands.

Forrest smiled, “Is that for me?  Thank you very much!”  He knelt down and accepted the present as the child giggled, his brown eyes sparkling with delight.  When Forrest looked up, a spear-head pointed at his face and several people had gathered around.

“Tobias, go to mommy,” the red-head girl wielding the spear gently commanded.  The boy wobbled over to a young lady whose dark features mirrored her son’s and whose rounded belly told that the young one would soon have a littler sibling.

“What are you doing here?” a gruff voice demanded, then the big man threw his hands up in the air and shouted to no one in particular, “and how did he get past our perimeter?”

“He’s a spy from the government!” a shifty woman accused, the pressure of her own spear causing Forrest to jump up.

“No, no, that’s not why I’m here,” he could feel their penetrating eyes trying to see the truth.  After he’d explained to them what had happened, as simply and as favoring to himself as possible, the sharp stone spear was handed off to a bent old man whose eyes stared at Forrest from their hiding spot behind his bushy grey eyebrows as the rest of the group drew away.  Only a few bits and pieces of their heated conversation reached Forrest, but it was soon apparent that they had decided to provide him shelter and a guide back to the science station in return for all his equipment.  The rest of the day was then spent retrieving the equipment and setting up a place for it to be stored.  He felt somewhat like a prisoner as he tried to help and he saw that the group functioned on a very strict merit-based hierarchy ranging from the strongest, smartest, and oldest down to feeble, young, and new.  As he watched the group dynamics he noticed a component missing.  In any society of a certain size there is always some form of medicine man or doctor, but he saw none.  When he asked about it, he was informed that their doctor had died a few months previously.  It was then that his work again became his passion.  He would be so invaluable to these people in every capacity possible that when he requested to stay and help the young mother deliver her child, they couldn’t refuse.

Coming eventually... Justifying the Mean

Utopia Series

Utopia is an imaginary place and society of perfection; economically, politically, etc.  The idea first appeared in literature as a fictional reality in Sir Thomas More's Utopia (1516).  Writers have since used this idea symbolically to portray their own ideas, either realistically or ironically.  Historically, the idea has been a hope for society that we can eventually reach such a perfection.

In the Utopia Series, ten people find themselves lost in the gears of their society.  Some fall out unintentionally, others escape from the injustice they find, a few are just doing their jobs, and the rest are either not aware or do not care about what is going on around them.

What is Utopia, really? The Utopia Series is a compilation of ten ways of looking at it, from my mind.

1. The Almost Politician
2. Caught Red-haired
3. Playing God
4. Justifying the Mean
5. Caught Red-haired, Part II
6-10. TBA

Utopia - Caught Red-haired

Caught Red-haired

second in the Utopia series

“We see blonds and brunettes all the time, but where are the red-heads?  If you haven’t seen one around, it’s not simply a coincidence.  Only every one person in one hundred carries the recessive gene that causes red hair and merely two persons in a thousand actually have red hair.  Scientists have discovered that the gene that causes red hair is disappearing, and could be gone within a couple hundred years if something is not done now to stop its disappearance.

“The government’s new voluntary program aims to do just that.  Red-heads and other carriers of the gene from all over the city are gathering to participate in the propagation program.  Phillip Alexi, spokesperson for the program…”

“Nate, are you paying attention?  Do you know what you want?”

Nate turned from the TV and looked back at the overhead menu.  “Yeah, I’m here.  What are you getting, Amelia?”

“My usual,” replied the girl with a big smile.

Nate laughed, “You always get that.”

“I know, that’s why I always know what I want and you’re always standing here for ten minutes looking for something to eat.”

“I think I’ve got it now.”  The two stepped up to the counter together and ordered.  The employee went to go get their food for them and they stood at the counter.

Amelia leaned ‘casually’ against the counter and spoke softly, “Don’t look now, but that family at the big table has been staring at us since we came in here.”

The employee returned with their food and they went to get their drinks.  Nate sneaked a peek at the family at the big table.  Sure enough, they were being stared at.  The parents were at least trying to hide their amazement, but one of the kids was turned completely around in his chair with his mouth gaping.  “They must be from a different sector,” Nate remarked.

The two friends tried to get their drinks and get to a table before things got awkward, but one of the parents stood and approached them.  “We couldn’t help but notice your hair.” Their accent indicated that they were from the North Coast sector of the city.  “Are your parents red-heads, too?”

Nate sighed.  Things were about to get awkward.

“My dad has red hair,” the girl responded, “but my mom’s a brunette.”

“Oh, how interesting!”

“And neither of my parents have red hair, but they obviously both had the gene,” added Nate.

“So you two aren’t brother and sister?  I’m so sorry, I just assumed.  You do make a lovely couple though.  Did the government pair you?”

“We’re not a couple,” the red-heads replied in unison.

“We’re just friends,” explained Nate.

“Non-related friends,” Amelia clarified.

The stranger’s face brightened in embarrassment.  She muttered a few incomprehensible apologies and went back to her table to inform her family of what she had learned.

“Seriously, we look nothing alike, other than the hair,” Amelia exclaimed as they sat down.

Nate quickly compared the two.  Both of them had red hair, bountiful freckles, and the same pinkish-orange complexion.  However, his square face and sharp nose contrasted with her round face and button nose, her curvy body was nowhere close to his thin athletic build, and the translucent blue of his eyes was very different from the deep brownish green of hers.  “Yeah, I don’t really see a resemblance.”

Nate knew this was going to be a short summer.  It seemed as if everyone wanted to hang out before they all left for college.  When Nate got home, he had to move the stack of incomplete thank you notes for graduation presents off his bed before he hopped in.  Nate was so tired from the long day he’d had, but it seemed as if his brain would never shut off.  He kept turning over in his mind everything that had been going on recently with the government’s new program for red-heads.  Normally, he didn’t care too much what the government did, but now he was having to take a step back and look at it again.  Maybe the Grand Head had too much control over people’s lives.  Maybe that was why everyone lived in one big city – not to be environmentally conscious and let the earth recover from eons of scattered human occupation, but so that the world’s government could more easily control its people.

Thoughts such as these were dangerous, but Nate thought it was about time he think them.  He could not go on pretending that everything was right in the world.

Nate heard something downstairs.  He would have liked to assume that it was just one of his brothers looking for a late night snack, but it was too quiet.  He grabbed one of his knives and got up out of bed.  He heard the squeaky stair – whoever was there was coming up the stairs.  Then he heard the stair two more times.  There were at least three of them.  He waited by his door in case they came in, he would surprise them.

The handle moved and the door opened.  He identified the man’s figure, clothed in black with helmet, equipment, and exposed neck.  Nate slid his knife quickly up to the man’s neck and grabbed his shoulders.  Nate was intending to threaten and hold hostage, scare the burglars into leaving and maybe make enough commotion so that his dad would come to help.  The man was a little taller than Nate, and Nate would have had him except for a slight, almost involuntary hesitation.  Nate was not well-trained in hand-to-hand; but the man apparently was because before Nate could tell what happened, a sharp pain went up his arm and his knife fell to the ground.  A gloved hand suppressed a panicked cry.

A deep gravelly voice hissed, “Keep still.”

Nate felt a sharp pain in his neck and he began to feel dizzy and weak as the man kept him rigidly in place.  Deep purples and greens began to float in and out of the shadows and soon blended into unconsciousness.

A garbled voice cut into the unconsciousness, “…wake up, please.  Is it you, Nate?”

At the mention of his name, Nate jolted awake.  He sat up and immediately slammed his head hard.  He fell back on the hard surface on which he had been sleeping.

“O, be careful,” the familiar voice warned.  “It’s close in here.”

“Who are you? Where are we?”  Nate looked into the semi-darkness at the girl beside him.  Flashes of orange streetlight came through slits beside him.

“Nate! It is you!  This is Amelia.”  Amelia extended her legs and moved to a lying down position right next to Nate, and while this was somewhat awkward, it seemed to be all she could do with the space available.

“What’s going on?”  Nate asked while trying himself to decipher what must have happened after they drugged him.

“I don’t know, they drugged me.  I guess they’re taking us somewhere.”

The two fell silent and listened to the noises on the road.  They heard someone moving around above them and saw headlights.  Soon the noises began to fade and the street lights became less frequent, the only sound was that of the engine.  They slowed to a stop and then accelerated again and the street lights were gone, only the dim red of the tail lights of their own transport remained.

“I think we’re outside the city,” Amelia whispered.

Nate’s heart skipped a beat at the thought.  He had never been outside the city, and even Amelia, who he knew had travelled extensively within the city, had never been outside the city.  Sobbing came from above them, they were not the only two there.  Nate began to feel fidgety and his senses heightened.  A great siren screeching of bugs and frogs harmonized with the rumbling engine.  The smell of Amelia’s shampoo was soothing above the smell of fear from the people who were unseen around them.  Dawn light began to highlight the outskirts of the city behind their barbed wire wall over toward the horizon and illuminate the grey metal interior of their box.  Amelia’s damp hair on his shoulder tickled and her arm against his was now less awkward and more welcome.

A series of jolts ensued and it seemed that they were at their destination, because the box opened and the morning sun poured over them.  Nate stood, then turned and helped Amelia to her feet.  He held on to her hand, more for his own comfort than for hers, though she may have needed it, too.

“Direct your attention here,” commanded a man a short distance away from them.  He wore the regalia of a Scientific Research Corps officer.  “Welcome to Camp Propogation.  You have been chosen as some of the best specimens of your genes to participate in our program.”  Amelia immediately dropped Nate’s hand and from habit they both side-stepped a little away from each other.  “You will now be directed by these guards to your respective orientations.”

A group of SRC members began regrouping the confused red-heads, and soon Nate was separated from Amelia and marching into a low-lying building.  The small group of red-headed males was led into a room with another small group of guys of various hair colors.  They were seated in front of a podium and projector screen.  Nate was sitting next to a talkative man with short brown hair who had volunteered for the program and was sharing how lucky he thought Nate was to actually be a red-head and how he wanted to honor the memory of his red-headed father by spawning more like him.  Nate began to feel as if his face might be turning green.

A dark man with thick glasses took the stand and began a presentation of all the programs at the camp.  Nick really did have a sinking feeling in his stomach now.  He was not listening any more, but he knew he could not make it through this alone.  He lowered his head into his hands and prayed; prayed for strength to do what was right.  This place was not right in so many ways.  All the things he avoided at school, things he had been taught to not even think about, magnified and focused in a way very difficult to avoid.  He could no longer just dodge the subject, this was something he would have to take a stand against; the only problem was he didn’t know how.

The group was now being directed out of the briefing room.  Nick followed, striving to keep his ears unreceptive and his eyes inattentive.  They were soon in a room with lots of posters and screens on the wall.  He couldn’t help but notice the pornographic nature of all the media.  Their guide’s voice droned on, “This is one of the many programs available to male members of the camp…”

Nate’s breath now came heavily through his nostrils, his eyes narrowed, and a hot rage boiled up within him.  There was nothing right about this, he refused to be a slave to their evil project.  Grabbing the monitor nearest him, he tore it from the wall with a strength he did not know he had.  The disturbing picture vanished in a crash of sparks and glass.  “I won’t participate!” he shouted.  “You can’t make me.”

Strong hands grabbed each of Nate’s arms and the scientist conducting the orientation said, “And this is an example of what happens to anyone who tries to disrupt or discredit the camp by going against the established rules.”

“The cage,” continued the scientist.  Nate blinked in the bright sunlight.  “This is the established punishment for any disrupters.”  A high wire fence surrounded Nate and separated him from the rest of the camp.  “Right in the center of camp, the offenders serve as example for those who see them.  The sentence is twelve hours of daylight long.  If one’s sentence is not complete by sundown, he will stay in the cage overnight and resume the punishment in the morning.”  The group moved on and Nate was left alone, in the dirt, his shirt discarded, and in plain view of every building in the camp.  A few inhabitants passed, dressed in grey uniforms, but not much happened.  The summer sun beat down, and Nate began to see the severity of the punishment.  Twelve or more hours in a cage by himself he could stand.  Twelve hours without shade?  That was pure torture for someone with Nate’s complexion.

By the time the sun was past its zenith, Nate was a noticeable red color.  The camp began to stir as the people emerged from the buildings.  Nate heard his name, called in a soft shaky voice.

“Amelia!” he shouted and stood.  “I’m in here!”

Several heads turned to look as Amelia turned in circles to find him.  “Nate!” she cried and ran towards him.  “This is horrible!  Why are you in there?  What’re we going to do?”  She was trying so hard not to cry, but Nate could hear the tears stuck in her throat.

“I broke a TV.”

Amelia burst into tears, “They’re gonna make me find someone to make me pregnant, and I don’t want to be pregnant.  I want to go to college, and I want to go home!  I want to find someone who loves me, not someone I have to mate with.  This is so wrong!”  She flung herself at the fence and Nate caught her.  He pulled her in and held her, as best he could through the wires.  Her tears practically sizzled on his burning shoulder.  He was scared for her now, more than he’d ever been.  She was more trapped than he was.

“Is there a way out?”

“I don’t think so.  I have to find someone I like before tomorrow night and if I’m not pregnant in a month then they choose someone at random!”

Though that wasn’t what Nate meant it gave him an idea.  “A month will be plenty of time,” he whispered.

“What?” Amelia pulled herself out of Nate’s arms.

“You trust me, right?” he asked, grasping her by the shoulders.

“Yes,” she was quite confused. “Of course I do.”

“Tomorrow night, choose me as your preferred mate and I’ll do the same.  Then,” and his voice became barely audible, “we’ll plan our escape.”

Amelia gasped and smiled.  Then a concerned look crossed her face, “You’re sure we can do it in a month?”

“We have to try.”

Nate spent the night in the cage, but was released before noon the next day.  He received his grey uniform.  It was a tight cotton shirt with three different colored stripes on one sleeve and slack-like pants.  He and Amelia spent the day moving from shadow to shadow, scouting for possible escape options.  They went together to the office and filed the voluntary pair form.  They received a key to their very own room, which was on the third floor of the south-western dormitory.  A window looked out at the fence and the forest beyond.  The room was furnished with a queen sized bed, a couch, and also had a full bathroom with a huge tub.

First order of business was to get Nate’s sunburn taken care of as best they could.  Then they argued over who slept on the bed and who got the couch.  Nate decided that Amelia should get the bed, but Amelia made him agree that he would sleep there when he had to serve time in the cage.  They also discovered that night that the food was infused with a chemical that caused a feeling of sexual attraction and they should avoid being under its influence at the same time.  It was a difficult evening, but they eventually got to sleep, and they slept in well past breakfast time.

They soon began their planning.  Nate and Amelia spent hours outside walking around the compound, looking for weaknesses in security, drawing plans in the dirt, and making friends.  Nate was best at talking to people and getting to know them quickly and thoroughly.  They began to include their friends in their plans, and would share it with them.  Their friends would exclaim that it had never been tried before, warn them of potential dangers, and volunteer to help.

He and Amelia continued working out their plan, and Nate was impressed by Amelia’s attention to detail in plan-making and in observation of the security.  She noticed the guards who were actually reading, and she noticed the ones intently watching for trouble.  She also observed and explained how the guards were changed and when.  As they would lie in the dirt and plan, he often felt satisfied just watching her think.  It was beautiful to see her thought patterns come out so clearly.  They were jumbled at times, but they always made sense.

The most enthralling thing was the way she smiled.  There was a different smile for every occasion.  The grin and flush of red in her cheeks for a personal compliment, the wide open laugh when he messed up something, an eye roll and smirk for a bad joke, and best of all when she would smile when they were working something out or just relaxing against the side of a building in silence.  That smile was the most amazing because it was simply her, nothing flashy or funny.

It wasn’t that Nate hadn’t noticed these things about Amelia before, it’s just that they now seemed to carry some meaning and attractiveness.  He was a little worried that the chemicals in the food were starting to get to him because Amelia seemed to, in a word, shine.  Even in a crowd of other red-head girls, some much prettier than Amelia, she would be the one he would notice.  Her mop of curly hair and brown eyes that reflected the gray of her dress stood out and made him want to be closer to her all the time.

“Alright, it’s been a week since we stirred up any serious trouble and I think we’re almost ready to go.”  Amelia was lying on her stomach, staring at a drawing in the dust.

Nate was lying on his back, pretending to be staring at the sky.  “Amelia,” he was watching the way the breeze flicked Amelia’s curls out and how they would spring back to their natural position.  “Do you feel like the chemicals in the food are staying in our system, building up and making us all love-crazy?”

“No.  You changed the subject.”  She began to erase her drawing from the ground.  “I’ll create some trouble and get those supplies we need, then the next dark night we should be set to go.”

Nate hadn’t been paying attention, “Go? What supplies?”

Amelia gave him a cold look.

“Ouch, just kidding!” he lied.

She rolled her eyes and smirked like she always did, then flipped onto her back and stared up into the sky.  Nate moved closer until their elbows were touching.  Out of the corner of his eye he watched a slight smile flit across her face.  Her chest rose and fell rhythmically with her breathing and her eyelashes flickered.

A look of consternation crossed her face, “Why do you ask?”

“Why do I ask what?”

“About the chemicals, are you ok?”

Nate thought she might have seen signs of his crush that he wasn’t sure about, “Yeah, I’m fine.  I’m just concerned about the long-term effects.”

Amelia sighed.  “I don’t think it’s anything to worry about.  It’s not like I’m going to fall head-over-heels in love with you.  We’re just friends.”

“Of course,” Nate felt a twinge of disappointment, but forced a smile.  “Just friends.”

That evening as the shadows were beginning to lengthen, the siren sounded calling all inhabitants to a general assembly.  It was a rare occasion and many were confused.  Nate feared the worst.  He tried to blend in with the crowd.  If this was about Amelia’s raid, then they would want him, too.  He passed several friends who tried to ask him if this was related to the break, but he kept his head down and continued moving toward the center where the announcer was.  Nate found a spot behind a couple of taller guys so that he could see without being seen.

Amelia was tied to one of the posts at the corner of the cage, but outside of the cage.  The head security officer stood beside her.  Her wrists were secured above her head and her feet barely touched the ground.  Nate immediately reflected her fear with an anger that tensed his entire body.  He wouldn’t have been able to unclench his fists if he had tried.

“This camp has seen an unprecedented amount of disorder and disruption.  This girl, Amelia Dacroi, and her mate, Nathanial Soar, have been the main instigators behind this commotion.”  Guards at the back of the crowd searched for Nate.  He stood a little closer to the two who served as his shield.  “We intend to make an example of this one to show you that disorder will not be tolerated.  This time we will use a punishment much more fit to her crimes than the cage.”  A huge tattooed man with a scruffy red beard and buzzed hair stepped up to Amelia.  “Meet Jones ‘Mauler’ McLytle.  He was relieved of a life sentence on the RCCP rice farms when he volunteered for this program.” Sweat trickled down Nate’s face.  The RCCP rice farms were reserved for only the most inhumane and violent prisoners, serial killers and rapists.  “It is to be his responsibility to punish Miss Dacroi.” Guards formed a circle separating the crowd from the announcer, Amelia, and the grizzly recruit.

Mauler McLytle approached Amelia, blocking her from Nate’s view.  Mauler took a step back, grunted in anger, and then lunged toward Amelia.  She let out a scream.  It was more than Nate could handle.  “Amelia!” he shouted, and lunged down between the two guys in front of him and also between two of the guards.

“Help!” Amelia screamed, and all hell broke loose.

Following Nate’s initiative, several other guys rushed the circle and began fighting with the guards.  It took the guards by surprise and several got through.  Soon about four of them were pulling at Mauler McLytle.  Nate rushed straight for Amelia.  Around them the guards tried to fight off the prisoners and a large-scale riot started.  Nate tore her restraints from the pole and they sank to the ground together.  Her skirt was torn all the way up to her hip, her shirt was hanging off her shoulder, her wrists were bleeding from the cuffs, and her lip was bleeding from the Mauler’s brutality.

Nate tried to pull her in, but she pushed him away and curled into a ball.  He tried to fix her shirt and put his arm around her shoulder.  “Are you alright, did he hurt you?”

She looked up at Nate.  “I got them.  I’ve got the supplies.  The genetics lab is ruined.  I’m not too hurt, just don’t hug me, my shirt’s messed up.”

Nate backed away and sat next to Amelia, a good six inches away at the nearest.  The riot raged on, with the guards being beaten to the ground.  All this he had started.  Why did he do it?  To get home?  Because this place was so wrong?  Those were his motivators at the beginning, but now he realized that it was something else.  Maybe this was it all along.  He loved Amelia.  It irritated him that they were always just friends.  Her beauty in planning the escape and carrying it out had won him over.  He now saw that he had to be her courageous one who jumped through the guards to take on Mauler.  No sane person would have done that.

He took her hand and led her through the crowd, throwing a few punches as he went.  Some of the rioters were on their side, outraged at the brutality of the camp.  Others were just enjoying the fight.  More guards had joined and they were beginning to gain control as Nate and Amelia slipped back to their dormitory.

He looked at her dirt and tear-streaked face and knew that no matter how strong she was, he had to be stronger; no matter how smart she was, he had to help her and be smarter; and that no matter what happened, he had to get her out of this horrible place.  No matter the cost.

Read "Playing God" next

Utopia - The Almost Politician

The Almost Politician

first in the Utopia Series

“Varhaft! Did you get the budget plans sent to the Administration of World Religions?”

With outstretched document in hand, Varhaft replied, “Yes sir, I was actually heading to your office to drop off the signed documents with your secretary.”

A look of surprise crossed the supervisor’s face as he took the papers.  “Well, well… one step ahead of the boss.”  Varhaft watched the supervisor’s eyes as he scanned the document.  His eyes went from their usual cynical squint to a slight sparkle of approval. “This looks good.  You’re good to go, then.  Have a good weekend, David.”

David Varhaft smiled and shook his manager’s hand, “You too, sir.”  David walked to the exit and input his address into the keypad.  He stepped into the clean white transporter and waited for the doors to reopen at his apartment.

He set his backpack on his sofa and changed into more casual clothes.  He looked in the mirror and ruffled the office look out of his straight brown hair.  He wandered into the kitchen area.  There were only a few options in his refrigerator as far as supper was concerned.

Ding-a-ling! David sprang for the phone, tripping over his cat.

“Damn you, Rocky,” he said as he got up on his sofa and picked up the phone.  “Jack! What’s up? Do you have it? Yes. Great, I’ll be right over.”

David jumped out the door onto the transporter pad.  The clean white brightened in rays of stabbingly radiant light.  David closed his eyes and waited for the doors to open.

“Dave!” Jack shouted as David stumbled out of the transporter.

“Jack, you need to clean your trans pad, you a…”

“So who’s the man?  I got your code for you, Dave.  It wasn’t easy, but we’re square now, and I don’t plan on ever owing you a favor again.”  Jack opened a can of beer and leaned back in his desk chair.

David laughed and dumped trash off a chair so he could sit.  “Yes, thank you, I don’t want to try and get you to do anything again, you lazy bum.  So you’re sure this will disguise my computer as hers so I can imitate her without getting caught?”

“Yep, Miss High-and-Mighty will never know why she was fired.”

“Fantastic!”

“Dave, look at this!” Jack pointed at his computer screen.  “I’ve been tapping into the Grand Head’s surveillance, and look what he’s monitoring.  I think they’re contraries coming into the city!”

“At this point, Jack, I don’t even want to know what contraries are.  Maybe later.  This is just a little too illegal for me at this point,” David stood and picked up the key-drive off his acquaintance’s desk.

“Hey yeah, don’t forget to do it on your work computer, not your laptop.”

“Do I look like an idiot to you?”

“Yes, actually.”

David rolled his eyes at Jack and headed towards Jack’s back door, not wanting to take the slightly malfunctional trans pad.  Pushing aside the pile of unclean laundry by the door, David went out into the elevator and began walking to the train station.  The sun had almost set, and each skyscraper cast a shadow that stretched for several blocks.  The nightclubs were beginning to light up.  David was glad that he had not brought his wallet as he witnessed a pickpocket duck behind a dumpster and admire his new loot.  He turned down an alley as a shortcut.

A girl with reddish brown hair ran past him with a box in her hands.  She stopped and looked at the box, then heard him behind her.  She was startled and attempted to act as if she hadn’t stolen the box.

“It’s ok,” David said as he kept on his way. “I’m not gonna report you to the police.  I don’t even care what’s in the box.  I’m just going to the train station.”

A look of confusion crossed her face and she set the box on the ground.  She was gone up a fire escape as quickly as she had come.

David reached his home several hours after dark.  He pulled the key-drive out of his pocket and turned it over in his hand.  The cat rubbed up against his leg as he set the key-drive on the end table.

Ding-a-ling. Ding-a-ling.  A look of confusion crossed David’s face as he reached for the phone.  “Hello. David Varhaft speaking.  Jack? What the… The wrong one? You can’t be serious.  Oh, god no.  Alright, I’ll check it out.  Damn you, Jack.”

David set the phone back on the charger and sat on the couch.  He opened his laptop and grabbed the key drive.  He opened it up and pushed it into an open slot.

The files opened automatically on his laptop and David could tell right away that it wasn’t right.  He let out a long string of colorful metaphors.  The files were coded so that David couldn’t tell what they were, but he knew that he had to get them off his system as soon as possible.  He deleted his computer’s access off the key-drive and deleted the files and their download patterns off his laptop.  He could only hope that the world government’s monitoring system hadn’t seen anything they didn’t like and already traced it to him.

“David Varhaft has been found guilty of a mild offense against The World Government and is hereby sentenced to a minimum of a year’s service in the Resource Corps Correctional Program.   After his service, he will be required to resign from his position in The World Bureau of Human Affairs and, if he does not re-enlist in the Resource Corps, find work in the private sector.”  The Judge’s gavel fell and David was escorted out of the courtroom.

David could barely believe it.  One mistake, and his entire career was over.  It was almost like a bad dream it was so unreal.  He was lined up with the rest of the mild offense prisoners to get on the bus to the Resource Corps farm.  Guards and barbed wire surrounded them.  He had planned it all out, but somehow he had messed it up.  The plan had been simple, imitate a co-worker and get her fired or at least in trouble so that when the promotion he wanted opened up, he would be the most qualified candidate.

They loaded up on a huge armored bus with a machine gun mounted on the top and guards in body armor.  The Sergeant addressed the prisoners as they were directed to their seats.  “You will now be taken to RCCP farm 19.  Their primary resource is accelerated growth corn and you will each be there through at least two seasons.  There will be a general information briefing for you once you get there.”  David took a seat next to a mousy guy who was shaking.

A loudmouth behind David addressed the guard, “Why all the security?  Isn’t it kind of expensive to use this high security for mild offense prisoners?”

The guards laughed.  Not a good laugh; but an eerie, almost nervous laugh.   The Sergeant smirked at him, “We’re not worried about you getting out, we’re worried about what might try to get in.  The government doesn’t have enough invested in you to care whether or not you escape, but they do care whether or not you get eaten.”

The mousy man next to David squeaked and whispered under his breath, “We’re dead, I know it.”  Then he turned to David, “Did you know there was a prisoner bus accident last month?  They said there were rabid elephants attacking the busses.”

“Rabid elephants?  That’s ridiculous.”

“No, of course you wouldn’t know, the government doesn’t put things like that in the news or else the public would shut down their science experiments.  You need to keep your eyes open.  You think that we’re free?  The government has so many secrets… they know I know, that’s why they’re sending us out into the wilderness so that their secrets die with us.”

David blinked in disbelief and then turned forward to discontinue the conversation.  This guy was obviously insane.  The huge engine on the bus fired up and they jolted out of the courthouse bus terminal.  They soon left the city and headed out over the hills, through the forest, and out onto the vast plains.  Wild prairie growth extended to the horizon.  Despite the uniformity of the view, David was hypnotized by the seemingly infinite nothingness.  Eventually, it was again dotted by trees which slowly grew into small forests and they began crossing bridges over creeks and dry cavities.  Wild animals popped their heads above the grass every once in a while.

“Dust cloud ahead, over,” came over the walkie-talkie.

“What does it look like? Over,” said the driver.

“Buffalo stampede headed our way,” replied the lookout on top.  “Should I open fire on approach?  Over.”

“No, hold your fire.  We’ll stop and wait it out.  They should go around unless they’re provoked.  Over.”

“Roger that, over and out.”

The bus slowed to a stop just in front of a bridge.  On the other side of the river was a stand of trees to one side of the road and then a large dust cloud enveloped the plain on the other side.  The dust cloud grew larger as the herd thundered closer.  They crashed across the bridge and overflowed into the stream, swimming across as well.  The sound of their hooves shook the bus as they streamed past, snorting and stomping.  They were so close, David could see the fear in their eyes.  The mousy guy next to him muttered, “We’re dead.  The monsters are coming.  We’re gonna die. Oh God, save me, I’m dead.”

Then shouts of panic came from on top of the bus, but the words were incomprehensible through the static of the walkie-talkies.  The machine gun spit bullets over the roar of the stampede.

“Hold your fire!” the driver shouted into the walkie to no avail.

A wild trumpet rang above the sound of hooves.  The stampede was beginning to dwindle, but apparently something else was coming.  Several of the prisoners sprang to their feet and began shouting, panic in their voices.  The guards shouted for them to sit down.

Suddenly, the machine gun stopped firing and a hair-raising scream came from outside the bus.  The last of the buffalo, jumping and snorting in panic, tore past the bus.  David couldn’t quite tell what was going on.  Then, angry red eyes appeared at the window, tusks crashed through, and shattered glass flew into the bus.

It was huge, much larger than a normal elephant should have been.  It’s tusks were long and curled, with blood dripping off them.  It turned and rammed the bus--the whole thing shook and tilted at a crazy angle.  When the bus crashed back onto the ground, a large man stumbled and toppled onto David.  Some of the prisoners jumped through the shattered windows, but the guards ignored them and opened fire on the monstrous creature trumpeting its dominance to the intruding metal beast.  After goring the escaping prisoners, the mammoth of an elephant rammed the bus again and the driver got the engine fired back up.  He gunned the engine to take off over the bridge and get away, but the elephant somehow got his tusks under the bus and with a great thrust flipped it over on its side.  David clung to the seat to avoid smashing into the ground.  He closed his eyes as glass flew up into the bus.  The bus shook and groaned as the elephant smashed it one last time.  It teetered and rocked, then toppled over the edge of the bridge.

Everything floated around like they were in space; glass, guards, prisoners.  Then the weightlessness ended with a jolt and water began filling the bus, splashing and bubbling around.  Someone scrambled on top of David to get out and pushed him under the water.  Others were trapped in their seats under the water.  David got his head back over the water and reached for the side of the bus that was hanging over his head.  Glass cut into his hands as he pulled himself up out of the sinking bus.

“Help me!” cried the paranoid guy who had actually been right about the rabid elephants.  David reached down over the edge and grabbed his outstretched hand.

“Hurry up, we’ve got to get to shore before this thing sinks or the elephant comes back,” David said as he pulled the man out of the water.  They scrambled across the bus and into the river.  They swam to the shore and ended up under the bridge with one of the guards.

“Now what do we do?” David asked the guard.

“I guess we wait.  Headquarters monitors all prisoner transport.  They should be sending a rescue vehicle that should be here within three hours.  We need to wait here for them to find us,” the guard replied shakily.  David had trouble believing that the guard was entirely sure a transport would come.

“They’re not coming,” began the mousy guy.  “They want their secrets…”

“Stop it!” David shouted.  “That’s not helping anything!  The government is not trying to kill us.”

Then David noticed that the forest was eerily quiet.  The three of them stood on the shore as the bus burbled in the water.  The mammoth was off in the distance on the other side of the river, walking calmly away.  It was just odd.

A sharp roar and a gurgled cry came from behind.  David turned just in time to have blood spurt in his face straight from the guard’s slashed neck.  A large, tawny, lion-like beast tossed the body to the ground.  Her claws were extended and her long fangs dripped with blood.  Her deadly green eyes looked between David and the other prisoner, as if she couldn’t decide which to kill first.

“Run! Saber-tooth tiger!” squealed the mousy guy as he jumped toward the bank.  David ducked and the tiger sprang forward.  Horrible screams came from the underbrush as the large cat tried to catch her fleeing mouse.  David ran the opposite direction, scrambling into the trees.  Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he jumped through bushes and pushed his way through thorny vines.

Soon he could no longer hear any of the chaos he had just left.  He slowed down and assessed the situation.  He was bleeding, tired, dirty, lost, and scared.  Strange cries came from the trees around him, from bugs or maybe birds.  Water from an earlier rain dripped from the thick foliage around him.  He felt as if he had just run through the pits of hell and survived.  At least he had survived.

He eventually came upon a small clearing in which was an abandoned cabin from long ago when people lived outside of the city.  He knew he couldn’t go back there.  Even if he wasn’t completely lost he wouldn’t know how to explain what had happened.  He didn’t even know what they would do to him.  If he had thought he would be in this situation a year ago, he would have said that obviously the government would give him his freedom as pain and suffering compensation for the accident.  He wasn’t so sure anymore.

The cabin leaned and had vines growing up one side.  It looked as if the door was now functioning as a load-bearing wall and opening it would mean collapse.  He found a hole where beams had separated from the stone chimney and he crawled through into the dark interior.  Since the sun was setting, this would be as good a place as any to spend the night.  That would be a good plan for now, he thought, continue surviving.

“What are you doing here?”

David turned to see a sharp stone spear point inches from his nose.  From the way its wielder had said “you” it seemed as if they had met before, but she stood in the shadows so that he could not see her face.

“Never mind,” she continued.  “You must have been on the prisoner transport.  We’ve had them crash around here before, but the passengers don’t survive.”

“How do you know about the prisoner transport?” David asked.

“You have to be observant around here,” she stepped into the light.  It was the girl he had seen in the alley with the box all those months ago.  “I think I can convince them to help you out if you want.  We can take you back to the city.”

He looked at her slight form and beautiful face.  He saw a strange kindness in her face that he had never seen before, and he believed for the first time ever that she would help him without asking anything in return.

“Can I stay?”

“What?”

“Can I stay?” David repeated.  “I want to stay with you.”

“You don’t want to go back to the city?” the same look of confusion that he had seen in the city crossed her face again.

“Not really.”

“Well, that will take a little more convincing, but I think I can convince the tribe to take you.  Follow me.”  She turned to leave the abandoned building, but then stopped.  “So, what’s your name?”

“David Varhaft.  Call me David.”

            “Alright David, I’m Cate.  Welcome to the wild.”

Read "Caught Red-haired" next

1 Corinthians 10:6-13 in couplets

Listen to the example of those set before,

So that we may learn evil to deplore.

Following idols, they immorally play.

Twenty-three thousand fell on that day.

Testing the Lord, His good laws to break,

Were tested themselves by the bite of the snake.

Complaining in pride, often they grumbled;

‘Till one day – destroyed – and so were they humbled.

Listen to the example of those set before,

So that we may learn evil to deplore.

We who were born to the ends of the ages

Take warning from the sinners preserved in these pages;

For the one who thinks most that he’s standing tall

Is often the one most likely to fall.

Temptations are common, not one is rare,

But God is faithful.  Do not despair!

“No temptation too much” is His assurance.

God provides a way, if you give endurance.

Read 1 Cor. 10:6-13 (NASB)

The Door

The picture suddenly reduced to a single point and disappeared from the screen.

“Dad! I was watching that!”

“Well, now you’re not.  Run along then and do something else.”

“But Dad, I want to watch it!  It was just getting to the good part.”

“It’s all rubbish.  You should be outside, getting some fresh air; not sitting in here turning your mind to mush with these science fiction shows.”  The older man shooed the boy off the couch and sat down.  He crossed his legs and picked up the local newspaper.

“Dad…”

“I don’t want to hear it.  Go on then, shoo boy.  Some sunshine will do you good.”

The boy walked outside and slammed the door shut.  He sat down in a shadow on the back porch.  “Sunshine will do me good.  Well I’ll show him!  I’ll just sit here and not do anything useful.”  The boy sulked as the sun danced on the leaves of the trees.  A lonely cicada screamed in the next yard over and the birds sang in harmony.  The boy almost gave in to the flittering butterfly’s taunting movement when he spotted an unfamiliar man strolling through his backyard.

The man looked rather lost as he looked up into the trees.  He did not even notice the little boy in the shadow.  “Where could it have gone?  O confound it all, it can’t have gotten too far away!”  The man suddenly dropped to his hands and knees and put his ear to the ground, his head turned away from the house.  The boy got up and moved closer, hiding behind a tree when the man stood back up.  “Well, this is rather disappointing.  I really thought that it wasn’t going to disappear again.  I suppose if I just walk around a bit I’ll walk into it.”  At this point, the strange man’s gaze drifted to the tree.  “Hello? What have we here?  I do say, come on out, little one.  Who might you be?”

The little boy cautiously stepped out from behind the tree.  “My name is Peter,” he said timidly.

“I see, so you have a name.  And what are you?”

“I’m just a boy, sir.  I live in that house there.”

“A boy.  What kind of boy?”

“Um… the regular kind, I suppose.”

“A regular boy named Peter, well I’m glad to have met you.  Now have you seen anything strange around here lately, Peter?”

“No sir, nothing strange here.  Well other than you, no offense, sir.”

“None taken, none taken.”  He stood and pondered for a moment.

“What are you looking for?”

“What?”

“You seemed to be looking for something, what is it?”

“What indeed.  Well I wish I could tell you, but I don’t think you’d quite believe me.”

“I might.  You never know.  I do try to keep an open mind.”

“Hmm… An open mind.  Might not want to do that, something may get in.”  The man started to walk away and Peter followed.  The man suddenly stopped short, like he’d run into a wall.  “Ow, my head.  Well I guess I’ve found it!”

“What is it?  I don’t see anything.”

“Are you still here?  Well, you see, this is a door, and I’d lost it.”

“A door to what?”

“O to almost anywhere, regular boy.”

“To the ice cream shop in town?”

“Why yes, if that’s your fancy.”

“Wow.”

The man started feeling in the air.  “Can’t find that doorknob!  Ah ha, nevermind, here it is right here.”  The man stepped back and a large rectangle of light appeared.  “Well, goodbye regular boy.”

“Wait! Can I come with you?”

“No, I’m sorry.  You need a key to get through this door.”  The man pulled a chain out of his shirt and from it dangled a large shiny crystal in the shape of a key.  The man stepped into the light and pulled the door shut behind him.  It was as if he had never been there.

“Come on, Peter, just do it already!”

“Yeah, I dare ya’!”

Peter stepped to the edge of the cliff and looked down at the water.  It looked very cold.  “Guys, I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“What, are you chicken, Pete?”

“No, I’m not chicken.  I just think that this is a bad idea.  I’ll get my clothes wet.”

The other two laughed at Peter.  “Take your precious clothes off,” they jeered.  “You’re such a chicken,” they taunted.

He mustered up the courage and jumped.  BAM!!!  He hit an invisible wall and fell backwards, away from the edge of the cliff.

Peter looked up and then exclaimed, “It’s the door!”

“The door?” one of his friends asked.

“Yes, the door.”

“To what?”

Suddenly a crack of light appeared at the edge of the cliff.  It widened into a large rectangle of light.  A strange man stepped through and closed the door.  He looked down at the teen sprawled on the ground.

“Hello? What have we here?  I do say, you look as if you’ve had a fall.  Who might you be?”

“Don’t you remember me?  My name is Peter.”

“I see, so you have a name.  And what are you?”

“I’m a regular boy.  We’ve met before.”

“A regular boy.  Now, I don’t suppose you know where this is, Peter?”

“We’re on Blind’s Cliff, sir.”

The strange man stood and pondered for a moment.  Peter’s friends gaped at the stranger and at Peter.  The man looked around, like he was looking for something.

“Do you remember me?” Peter asked.

“What?”

“You lost your door several years back.  I was there, don’t you remember?”

“Well I think I do remember.  Several years, you say.  Time must go quickly here, and you are much larger than the regular boy I remember.”

“I grew.”

“Hmm… growing.  Might not want to do that, you may get too large to fit through the door.”  The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a crystalline key.  “I had been thinking of recruiting a traveling companion.  Do I have a volunteer?”

“Indeed you do sir!”

“Very well regular boy.”  The strange man tossed him the key.  “Lead the way.”

“To the ice cream shop in town?”

“Why yes, if that’s your fancy.”

“Wow.”

No one ever saw Peter again and his friends never told anyone what really happened.