The Government: Dark Days

by Joseph Storm

  “My heart is hollow...stopped beating a long time ago,” he said.

  “It’s just on pause for a while,” she assured him.

  “You didn’t mention a husband back home? Did you leave one behind?”

  “No!” she said emphatically.

  “Why so passionate? You say it...as if it’s a curse.”

  “I’m not the marrying type.”

  “Why not?”

  “Men...that’s why.”

  “Are we that bad?”

  “Most are.”

  “Not all?”

  “I just haven’t met him yet...maybe he doesn’t exist. There are worse things in life than being single.”

  “I’m not so bad...am I?”

  “I guess you’re...ok,” she said with a slight smirk.

  “What happened to you...that made you so hard?”

  “Let’s just say...I put myself in the wrong hands. It was my own fault. I asked to see the worst of what man could be...and I got it. After that...it’s all I could see...the faces...the violence...the details just bring back too many dark memories to tell you anymore.”

  “I guess we’re not that different...haunted by decisions we can’t take back.”

  “It’s not like I didn’t try to move on...date people. Nothing really came from it. They just never seemed to let me in. Would you say I’m a cold person?”

  “Cold? No. Cautious...yes. Worth waiting for? Most definitely.”

  Becky blushed, as she wasn’t used to compliments. “Sometimes...I think I’ll be waiting forever. I mean...I watch football on Sundays...love pizza and wings...as well as my femininity...I think I’m quite a catch! But...according to my results...apparently I’m not.”

  “Did you ever think of lowering your walls? The ones that block people out...before they could ever get in...hurt you?”

  A look of regret overcame Becky’s face. “Enough about my love...or lack-there-of life. Tell me about good times...tell me about Jenny.”

  Joe sat up, as a light came over his usually dark face. “She put the heavens to shame with her beauty. Kindness...that could heal the most scarred heart. Words just can’t do her justice...all I can say...she made me the man I am,” he said, with a large smile on his face. “At least, the one I used to be.”

  “You’re still that man. And that smile does her more justice...than you’ll ever know,” she said, as the two locked eyes.

  “She made me smile all the time. Like when she bought me my first tie...for congress. It was solid red...I tried to put it on...nearly hung myself in the process.”

  Becky broke into laughter. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to...”

  “It was pathetic...me gasping for air! But sure enough, my wife, having that special touch...took it into her hands, and made it right. We broke into laughter afterwards...collapsing in each other’s arms,” he said, joining Becky in the round of laughter. “What I’d give to have those days back.”

  Becky’s face turned serious. “Do you think that it’s possible to love again?”

  Joe thought deeply. “You know...in all the alone time in Potomac...a man can do a lot of thinking. At some point...you just have to accept she’s gone. Can my love for her ever be replaced? Not a chance. Though maybe...if I’m lucky...I can find someone worthy enough to add to it,” he said.

  Becky smiled, as the two locked eyes again. “I hope that day comes, Joe Striker,” she said. “Sooner than later.”

  Joe moved in slowly towards Becky’s lips, the two being drawn together like magnets to a refrigerator. “Maybe it’s closer than I realize,” he said, about to make contact with Becky’s soft, dirt-brushed lips.

  “Enjoy my sloppy seconds, kid!” Gunner called out, waking from his sound sleep, rudely interrupting their moment.

  Father Tyme also woke up. “Amen for a few hours sleep,” he said.

  “I don’t hear any dogs...and I’m not dead. I guess your plan worked,” Gunner said while stretching.

  Joe and Becky pulled away from each other. “I was checking something on her face,” Striker empathized.

  “Are tonsils on the face?” Gunner asked in an almost jealous tone.

  “It’s not what you think,” Becky said in a defensive manner. “I don’t need a relationship in my life...and I certainly don’t need a man.”

  “You a lezbo?”

  “No! Well...there was one time...maybe two...but other wise...I’m absolutely straight!”

  “Sure...little miss hussy.”

  “How dare you!” Becky called out. “You’re just mad that no woman would touch you!”

  “Oh...I’ve had my fair share of them, honey.”

  “I told you never to call me that!”

  “Didn’t you mention a wife once?” Striker asked Gunner. “Where is she?”

  “I ditched her,” he said angrily.

  “Don’t I remember you saying...‘she lost me?’” Becky asked.

  “As in...lost my interest. I tossed her to the curb,” he said in a cocky manner. “I’ve had more women in my life than you can count on your fingers and toes.”

  “How much did they charge you?” Becky asked.

  “More money than you’re worth,” he said.

  “Are you this charming with all the women in your life...or is it just me?” she asked.

  “Just you,” he said.

  “You have any kids?” Striker asked.

  The look of cockiness melted from Gunner’s face. For a moment, the shield dropped from him, giving him the look of vulnerability. “No kids...never had ‘em, never want ‘em. Time to piss,” he said, getting up and exiting the group.

  “The words of a poet,” Father Tyme said.

  “Something set him off,” Becky said.

  Gunner made distance from the group, urinating on one of the trees. He peered out into the darkness, angrily speaking to himself, “I should have left that bitch...ex-wife! If I ever see her again...I’ll...” he didn’t finish his statement, as suddenly a noise sounded from afar.

  “We’ve got company!” Gunner yelled back towards the others, as he frantically zipped up. Striker and the others joined him.

  “Should we run?” Becky asked.

  “It’s too late for running...and we’ve got no ammo,” Gunner said.

  “Then we use what we do have,” Striker said, picking up a rock from the forest floor.

  “Can you help us?” a female voice asked from afar.

  “That doesn’t sound like one of them,” Becky curiously said.

  “Tell me my ears are playing tricks on me,” Gunner said to himself.

  The footsteps got heavier and closer, as a whole group of people emerged.

  “If shit had two legs, breasts, and a nasty mouth...” Gunner shouted, as the woman appeared to him.

  “Gun? Is that really you?” the bottled strawberry-blonde woman asked him. She carried a Louis Vuitton handbag, wore expensive heels, and enough make-up to either go to a party or the circus.

  “Goddamn it!” Gunner said.

  “Remove the damn...and you’ll have it just right,” Father Tyme said.

  “You know her?” Becky asked.

  “My ex-wife...Stacey,” he said.

  “The one you dumped?”

  Gunner turned to her, “Let’s not mention that little detail.”

  Stacey ran to him, hugging him desperately, tightly. “They took her! Our little girl is never coming back!”

  “What?”

  “They said it was only for a little while...she’d be back home again! They lied! They said on TV...she’s their property now!”

  Joe turned to Becky, “I thought he had no kids?”

  Becky shrugged her shoulders in wonderment. “I’m still shocked to see someone would actually marry him.”

  “Fate? They took my little Fate?” Gunner called out in disbelief.

  A man that Gunner didn’t recognize stepped forward, asking, “Who’s Fate?”

  “Hey, man...this is none of your conce
rn,” Gunner said boldly.

  “Hang on, baby...let me deal with this,” Stacey told the man.

  “Actually, it is my concern,” Robert Yale said, wearing a dapper suit and tie. He extended his hand to Gunner. “You must be Gunner...I’ve heard a lot about you over the years. I am Stacey’s husband, Robert Yale.”

  Gunner ignored the hand, causing Robert to rescind it. “So, you’re the one,” Gunner said in anger. “The one that stole my family away...kidnapping my daughter!”

  “She was not kidnapped...she was rescued by a court order. And for the record, I did not steal anyone. In fact, one can argue that I saved them.”

  “I’ve been waiting a hell-of-a-long time for this,” Gunner said, rolling up his dirty sleeves, preparing for a fist fight.

  Joe Striker restrained Gunner, as Stacey restrained her husband Robert. She pulled the man to the side, whispering in his ear. A moment later, he looked upon the fuming ex-husband with pity.

  Stacey-approached Gunner again. “Get him the hell out of my sight!” Shoman yelled.

  “Forget our past for a moment! Think of Fate! Our daughter! You can still save her...get her back! If anyone can do it...I know it’s you!” Stacey begged him.

  The feelings of rage, which Gunner had stored for years, were paused for a daughter he could only remember as a little girl. Her sweet face had never left his mind, and the love he felt for her never lessoned.

  “I thought of her every day,” Gunner said, lowering his guard. Striker let him loose, surprised to see a totally different side to the usually defensive man.

  “Can you do it?” Stacey asked. “Can you get her back?”

  “I don’t know...clearly...I couldn’t rescue her from you. Why would I be able to take on the government?”

  “Sir...can we put our differences in the past, and work together?” Robert asked. “Not as your ex-wife and her husband...but a concerned family, looking out for their daughter.”

  “Fine...but when we find her...I’ll deal with you,” he said.

  “Fair enough,” Robert responded.

  Joe Striker stepped up to the group of scared people behind them. “Where did you all come from?”

  “All over Virginia and DC,” Robert answered. “We were removed from our homes, and were about to be relocated. We had to make a run for it...joining these nice people along the way. They were in the same predicament as we were, displaced and desperate. I faced an even bigger danger...as I was to be reeducated for my profession.”

  “What profession would that be...wife stealer?” Gunner asked.

  “Stop,” Stacey demanded, managing to quiet Gunner down. She obviously still had the same controlling effect on him, and his feelings of inadequacy.

  “College Professor,” he said. “I was a big supporter of this administration and their social beliefs...I can’t imagine why they would treat me this way.”

  “As they say...the smartest people...are often the dumbest. I have no crackerjack college degree, and know that communism and socialism sucked...both of ‘em,” Gunner quipped.

  “I said stop,” Stacey said again, re-quieting Gunner.

  “We have nowhere to go...can you help us?” Robert asked.

  “We have nothing,” Joe Striker said. “There’s no shelter, little food and water, and we’re constantly on the run. To be honest...we would only put you in the path of more danger. We’re fugitives.”

  “We’re all fugitives now,” a man named Jonah Reed called out, placing an arm around his wife, Julie. They held their newborn son Thomas, who was wrapped in cloth. “Even my newborn...who hasn’t even experienced the world yet is an outlaw.”

  A look of concern filled Joe Striker’s face. I can’t be responsible for all these people, he said to himself, as an awkward silence filled the forest. I’ve led too many innocents to their deaths...my hands are stained with enough blood.

  Reading his disposition, Father Tyme placed a hand on Joe’s shoulder. “A flock is stronger than a single sheep,” he said softly.

  Striker nodded. He realized that the time to form a resistance was now, though he hadn’t imagined that it would be with ordinary citizens.

  “You’re welcome to join us...and share what we have,” Joe said. “In turn...we’ll ask you to donate any extra shoes or warm clothes that you can spare. We had to abandon ours.”

  The group checked their things, coming up with close enough sizes to outfit the desperate team of four. Stacey looked in her bag, seeing a pair of expensive boots that she was not willing to part with. “Fresh out,” she told Becky.

  Julie Reed chimed in. “Check my bag...I believe I have a pair of sneakers.”

  “Thank you,” Becky told her, as she found a close fit. “Please, join us,” she told everyone, leading the newbies to the remaining food.

  “Sorry,” Stacey said to Gunner, before she joined the others. “I was selfish then...I’ve changed my ways.”

  The usually headstrong, bitter man melted in the presence of his ex-wife’s intimidating beauty. Her skin was as soft as the day he left her, hair as reddish-blonde, and toes as manicured. He always loved the shape of her feminine, painted toenails and manicured feet.

  Even with all that Stacey put Gunner through, dreams of winning her back and reuniting their family always plagued him. Now, he knew that by rescuing his daughter, he had a chance.

  “I don’t blame you,” he said, looking towards Robert in an obviously threatening way.

  “Good...can you carry my bags?” she asked, flashing her long lashes at him, in the way she used to do it.

  “Of course,” he said. She knew that making Gunner feel like a man was the way to play him. The vain woman unloaded two large, heavy bags of pure vanity, leaving him thoughtlessly behind.

  She headed towards the food, snobbishly saying, “This is it? Oh well...I’m on a diet anyway.”

  Becky joined the group, helping them get as comfortable as they could. Father Tyme also offered his spiritual support, giving words of prayer, strength, and hope to the scared, and lost people.

  Joe and Gunner watched the interactions from a distance. Both had worry on their faces for different reasons. “Do you think we’ll make it to the caves?” Gunner asked. “Honestly.”

  “Who needs honesty...when there’s no other option?” Striker asked. A single snow flake landed on his face, before he could finish his statement.

  “The weather’s not gonna make it any easier,” Gunner said.

  Joe looked down at the pricey bags in Gunner’s hand, saying “Neither are those bags.” Both men exhaled deeply, peering back towards the new group.

  Suddenly, the sounds of dogs barked in the distance. Fear gripped the newbies.

  “What is that?” Robert Yale asked.

  Joe joined the group, calmly saying, “Stay calm, stay quiet, collect your things, and we need to get moving!”

  “Well...what is it?” Robert asked again.

  “Something you’ll get used to,” Striker proclaimed, as he re-led the way west, towards his homeland.

  Chapter Eleven:

  The Journey Home

  Crowds piled into the national mall for the wedding of Simon Judas and Kitty Smith. It recreated a scene much like election day, the difference being the blanket of December snow currently covering the grounds. The fact that half of the crowd was forced by gunpoint, also stood in contrast. The hope and excitement of four years past was as dark as the flag which flew in the cold winds, taunting everyone with its proud, militant wave.

  “Since the government is our God, the Capitol will be our church,” Leader Judas proclaimed, setting the stage for his worldwide broadcasted wedding. “A politician will be our pastor.”

  Under-Leader Arnold was chosen to marry the two. He had to fight the distain in his voice, masking it with the most over-enthusiastic response, “Nothing would make me happier,” he told them.

  Mika Sorka watched on a monitor from the shadows of his Moscow office. Commander Xavier Sin stood at att
ention behind the couple, though his mind was in a much different place, hunting down the group with his guards. Mika Sorka insisted upon the commander’s presence, putting the intimidating, eye-patched man on display for the masses to behold. The world would witness the administrations’ authority, power, and domination, which would one day rule them all.

  Standing at the commander’s side was a child unknown to the world, but if the plans worked out, Rock would eventually take Commander Sin’s place. It would be with or without the help of his father.

  The four year-old boy looked around in amazed shock, having never seen so many people. In fact, he had never even witnessed a world outside of the dojo. The child had never seen a tree, not to mention a forest of such grand buildings. He had better get used to it though, as the boy would be expected to police that world someday.

  Kitty wore a silk gown of pure white, and Leader Judas donned a damper tuxedo of the finest cloth. Mika Sorka spared none of the nations’ expense, wanting to display to the world that everything was better in America than its ever been. The daily propaganda was beamed around the globe, welcomed into every nation on earth.

  “We are gathered here today to witness the union of American royalty. They are the father and mother to all men, women, and children...the voices of their every reason...the light and darkness of their every season,” Under-Leader Arnold read from Mika’s pre-prepared vows. He spoke into the cameras, as he was instructed to direct those lines to the public.

  After an hour of worship rambling, he finally got to the personal vows. These were directed only at Kitty. “Do you, Kate Smith, take Simon Judas, as your leader and husband, a man you obey, worship, and serve submissively. A leader who transcends all thoughts of self, one worthy of sacrificing all needs for personal desire, for the good of the nation. A leader, to whom you will deliver a son, produce an heir, and further extend the hand of progression. He will protect the way of life which shall endure until the end of time.”