Election Year 2050
Copyright © 2018 by Bruno & Brown Press
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing, 2018
ISBN
www.sunshinegbruno.com
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Election Year 2050
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Other books by the author:
Kill the DJ
Beauty’s Only Skin Deep
Dedicated to those who resisted.
You are the ones history will remember.
If the people cannot trust their government to do the job for which it exists-to protect them and to promote their common welfare-all else is lost.
-Barack Obama
A note from the author:
Election Year 2050 was not a book I had ever planned to write. I have over sixty pages worth of book ideas saved on my laptop, and Election Year 2050 was not one of them. I was about to finish my first book, Kill the DJ, in November of 2016, when the Presidential election happened. I was about to start writing my second book, which I had been thinking about writing for a while. The 2016 election was the first election I was old enough to vote in. I was so excited to vote for Hillary Clinton, who everyone knew would become America’s first female President. I was so excited, I even went to the caucus in February. I was proud to be part of what would be a historical moment. And then I woke up at two o’clock the morning after the election. I looked at my phone only to find out that Donald Trump had won, and would be the forty-fifth President of the United States.
How? How could this happen? That was my question. Three million more people voted for Clinton than Trump, but Trump still won. I feel like many Americans showed their true colors when they voted for Trump. I learned who I did not want to associate myself with. A lot of people online were joking around, trying to make light of the whole situation, even though they were nervous. They said that a lot of good punk music would be coming out in the next four years. Because, like it or not, art is political. It has always been, and hopefully it will always be.
I spent the next few days feeling like I was dreaming. This couldn’t be our reality. I saw so many people like my family, blue-collar families, many who lived paycheck to paycheck, celebrating Donald Trump’s win. They were so sure that he was going to make America better for people like them. And all I could think was, “Really? He wouldn’t wipe his ass with you unless you have fifty million in the bank. He doesn’t care about these people. He only cares about certain people. People like him.” And I feel like he proved it with his “thank you tour” where he said he would only be going to the states where he won. And in a moment of paranoia, I thought, “Oh god, what if he kills the rest of us?” And that’s how Election Year 2050 was born.
So, yes, this book is political in a way. I normally write for myself, but I wrote this book for people like me, who are not happy with the direction this country is heading in. For the resisters. This is my way of speaking out and resisting. And if you don’t like that? Then don’t read this book. I don’t care. I didn’t write this book for someone like you. I wrote this book for someone like me. To those who are like me, I want you all to hold on to your hope. Because I have faith that things will change for the better.
-Sunshine G. Bruno
Chapter 1
Jaxon
“It’s official,” The news anchor on the tv said. “Albert Franch has been elected to be the next President of the United States.”
Half of the people in the New York City penthouse cheered. Jaxon Ribelle, however, felt his stomach drop.
“President Franch is expected to make his speech within the hour,” The news anchor said. It seemed like she was about to cry. Jaxon knew that she had voted for the other candidate, Curtis Capper. Because of that mistake, the news anchor was going to die. Just like Jaxon and his wife, Olivia.
Jaxon turned toward the front door. He had to get out of there.
“Hey, Jaxon, isn’t this great?” One of his wife’s friends, Whitney, slurred. She must have been on her sixth glass of champagne.
Jaxon shook his head. “No, Whitney. Olivia and I, we voted for Capper.”
Whitney frowned. “Oh, that’s too bad.” She burst out laughing as she said, “It was nice knowing you.”
Jaxon shook his head as he walked away from her. He had never liked Whitney anyway, she was always drunk.
“Jaxon!” Olivia came running up to him.
Jaxon hugged his wife, burying his face in her short brown hair.
“Jaxon, what are we going to do?” Olivia asked. Her green eyes were shining with tears.
“I don’t know, Liv. I guess there’s nothing we can do.”
The rules of the Presidential election were simple. Every American citizen over sixteen had to vote for a new President every two years. No exceptions. Whoever didn’t vote for the winning candidate would be executed. About forty-six percent of voters didn’t make it past their first election. Seventy-two percent didn’t make it past their second election. Jaxon and Olivia, however, had made it to their seventh election. They were two of the extremely lucky few. It wasn’t easy to make a decision on who to vote for. You were not allowed to discuss who you were voting for with anyone who didn’t live in your household. You would watch one debate with the two candidates. Then an hour later you would go to vote. It was a huge gamble. But if you didn’t vote, you’d be executed. It was the result of cruel people having too much power.
Jaxon and Olivia got out of the taxi and rushed into their apartment building. They were both impatient in the elevator. They rushed into their apartment. It wasn’t as luxurious as Whitney’s penthouse, but it was still quite nice. It was one of the benefits of living in New York, which was the only part of America that was as nice as things were before 2016. Ninety-eight percent of America’s population was living in run-down motels.
Alissa, their daughter’s nanny, was sitting on the couch. She turned off the tv when Jaxon and Olivia walked in.
“Alissa, where’s Zoe?” Olivia asked.
“She’s sleeping in her bedroom,” Alissa told her. “Is everything alright?”
Olivia didn’t say anything as she walked over to the picture window in the living room. She watched the city forty stories below.
Jaxon didn’t say anything. He was still in shock. He was going to die. What would happen to Zoe? She had only just turned three. Everyone in both Jaxon and Olivia’s family were dead.
“Alissa, who did you vote for?” Olivia asked at last.
“Franch,” Alissa answered. She looked back and forth between Jaxon and Olivia. “Uh oh, you two voted for Capper, didn’t you?”
Olivia nodded. “All of our family members have passed. We have no one to take care of Zoe. It’s why we hired a nanny in the first place. Zoe really loves you. Would you be interested in adopting her?”
Alissa stood up. “Of course. Zoe is like my own daughter. She’ll be in good hands. You can trust me.”
Olivia and Jaxon looked at each other and knew that they were thinking the same thing. You couldn’t trust anybo
dy in this world.
Albert
There was a knock at the door. A second later, a man stuck his head in. “Are you ready, sir?”
Albert Franch, who was looking in the mirror, straightened his jacket. “Yes. I am ready for the world to see me as the President for the first time.”
“Wonderful,” The man said. “If you would follow me, please.”
Albert followed the man, staring at the back of his head. He was scrawny. Albert could crush him without a problem. He wondered if this man had been excused from voting. No, he didn’t think so. This man wasn’t important enough. He probably didn’t even know that you could be excused from voting. Of course, not just anyone could be excused. It was only the important people. Like politicians, doctors, and the extremely wealthy. No, this man would not have been excused. He must have voted for Albert, otherwise, he’d be a mess right now.
“They’re ready for you out on the stage, sir,” The man said.
Albert put on his best fake smile and shook the man’s hand. “Thank you for your support.”
The man smiled. “It was no trouble. I’m just doing what I can to help make the country a better place.”
Albert kept his smile plastered on his face. “Well, you just leave the rest to me.”
“…And now, The President of the United States, Albert Franch!” Someone out on the stage said.
Everyone started cheering as Albert walked onto the stage.
He smiled and waved at everyone as he walked to the podium at the center of the stage. “Thank you!” He said. He waited for the cheering to die down before he continued, “Thank you, everybody. I am so excited to be your new President. I am going to make this country a much better place. You better believe that.”
“Are you going to stop the executions?” A woman in the crowd yelled.
“Pardon me?” Albert replied.
“Are you going to stop the executions? That would make this country better.”
Albert pointed to the woman and turned to a few men in the Secret Service. “Arrest her,” He said. After the woman had been taken care of, Albert continued his speech. “Make no mistake, America. I am not to be messed with. I will execute anyone who thinks otherwise. Now, there’s the matter of the people who did not vote for me. As you all know, we have a huge overpopulation problem in America. These executions are only to keep the population under control. If you did not vote for me, remain in your homes. You will be picked up and brought here, to Washington D.C., within the week to be executed. That will be all for tonight. Thank you, and good night.”
Half an hour later, Albert was being led through the White House.
“Your bedroom is this way, sir. You can talk to me if you need anything. Just ask for Edwin.”
Albert stopped to examine a picture of a young woman that was hanging on the wall. She was standing in a battle stance, with two laser guns clipped to her belt. Laser guns? Hm. Those had gone practically extinct by the mid 2030s. They were really nothing but a fad. She was good looking, though. She had white-blonde hair and gray eyes that matched the background of the picture.
“Who’s this?” Albert asked. He had never seen her in any history books or anything. Not that he had read many history books. Or any other books, for that matter.
“That’s Mia Forte,” Edwin explained. “She was President Barrow’s bodyguard and assassin for five years. She was a close, personal friend of his.”
Albert stared at the picture. “I’d like to make her a close, personal friend of mine.”
One of the Secret Service men coughed uncomfortably.
“How come I’ve never heard of her?” Albert asked.
“She worked very secretly. No one wanted the public to find out that a President had an assassin. Especially when that assassin was an eighteen year old girl.”
“What happened to her?”
“No one really knows. She was in prison under the orders of President Cordon until she found out that he had hired someone to kill President Barrow. She broke out and took her family and disappeared. No one knows where they are now, or if they’re even alive.”
“An assassin?” Albert muttered to himself.
“Would you like us to find an assassin for you?” Edwin asked.
Albert shook his head. “No. I prefer to do my killing myself.”
Chapter 2
Jaxon
Two days after the election, Jaxon and Olivia were getting ready to give Zoe to Alissa.
Olivia was crying as she handed Zoe to Alissa. “Make sure she goes down for her nap at ten thirty.” Then she laughed. “Oh, what am I saying? You already know that. You know everything about her. That’s why you’re the best choice for this.” Her voice broke on the last two words.
Jaxon handed Zoe’s diaper bag to the cab driver, who put it in the trunk. He stepped forward and kissed Zoe on the forehead. “I love you, baby girl,” He said.
Zoe reached a hand out and grabbed Jaxon’s pinky finger.
Olivia started crying harder. Jaxon could feel himself about to break down, so he said, “I think you should go now.”
Alissa turned around and got in the cab. It seemed like she wasn’t going to say anything, but she paused before closing the door. “Thank you for trusting me with her,” She said. “I’ll take good care of her.”
Olivia and Jaxon were silent as they went back into the building. They didn’t speak until they were in the elevator.
“What now?” Olivia asked.
Jaxon shrugged. “We wait.”
“How can they do this? They are destroying lives and tearing families apart.”
“It’s horrible,” Jaxon agreed. “Inhumane, even.”
“Of course it’s inhumane! We’re people! We haven’t done anything wrong, we deserve to live. If anyone should be executed, it should be those politicians!”
Jaxon shushed her frantically. “Olivia, quiet! If someone hears you say that, you could get executed!”
“So what? I’m getting executed anyway. You are too, in case you forgot. That’s why our daughter is going to grow up not knowing her real parents. And all because we didn’t vote for the winning candidate.”
“So what do you propose?”
Olivia grinned. “I propose that we run away.”
“Where would we go?” Jaxon asked as they stepped into their apartment.
“Hawaii. I’ve got a cousin who lives there. If we go there, we’ll be safe. Once we’re out of the country, they can’t touch us.”
Jaxon smiled. “You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?” His face fell as he remembered something. “What about Zoe? We can’t go without her.”
Olivia leaned back against the wall. She was chewing her nail, something she only did when she was deep in thought. “Can we trust Alissa? Can we tell her the truth?”
“I don’t want to put that burden on her. She’s a good kid.”
“Well, what should we do?”
“You’re the mastermind.”
Olivia shrugged. “We could just go and get her. Tell Alissa that we aren’t ready to say goodbye yet. Then we come back here, pack a few things, and leave.”
Jaxon nodded. “Let’s do it.”
“Oh, this is a surprise,” Alissa said as she opened the door to her apartment.
Jaxon and Olivia smiled at her. “Hi,” Olivia said. “We’re sorry to bother you, but we aren’t ready to say goodbye to Zoe yet. We were wondering if we could take her back until they come to get us.”
Alissa looked back into her apartment, where Jaxon and Olivia could see Zoe playing with Alissa’s cat, pulling on its tail. She turned back to them. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just pack up a few of her things. Come on in.”
Jaxon and Olivia walked into Alissa’s apartment. Olivia bent down to pick Zoe up.
Zoe played with Olivia’s hair as Alissa called from the kitchen, “Do you guys want me to keep coming over until… Um, until they come to get you?”
“No, we’d like to spend our
last few days together as a family,” Jaxon explained.
Alissa nodded in understanding as she walked back into the living room. She handed Jaxon the diaper bag and said, “Just call me when it’s time.”
Olivia and Jaxon said their goodbyes and hurried downstairs, to where a cab was waiting. They had decided that it would be better to get everything settled before picking up Zoe. Olivia had called her cousin while Jaxon called the airlines, looking for a flight. They had to get to the airport, where their flight was taking off to Los Angeles in an hour and a half. Then from there, they would get on a flight to Hawaii.
In the cab, Jaxon and Olivia held hands, smiling at each other. In less than twenty-four hours, they would be safe.
Albert
Albert was leaning back in his desk chair in the Oval Office, watching the news on the tv he had set up on the wall across from his desk.
Suddenly there was a knock at the door.
Albert paused the tv show he was watching. “Come in.”
Edwin walked into the room. “Sir, I have some news.”
“When do we get to start the executions?” Albert interrupted. “I’m really excited for that.”
“Well, this is kind of related to that,” Edwin said, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Spit it out.”
Edwin handed Albert a file. “These are the Ribelles. Olivia and Jaxon,” Albert looked at a picture of them in an elevator as Edwin continued, “They didn’t vote for you. We listen to the phone lines of anyone who doesn’t vote for the winning candidate. You know, in case they try to run. No one ever does, usually. But these two have. They’re heading to Hawaii with their daughter.”
“What can we do?”
“Well, the only flights to Hawaii leave from Los Angeles.” Albert looked confused, so Edwin explained, “It’s a city in California. Anyway, their flight from New York City to Los Angeles hasn’t left yet. I’ve already sent people to arrest them. They will be brought here. I suggest that they are the first people you execute. It will send a message to the rest of America.”
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