GMO 24- The Coalition- A Tale Of Prepper Survival (GMO 24- A Tale Of Prepper Survival Book 1)

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GMO 24- The Coalition- A Tale Of Prepper Survival (GMO 24- A Tale Of Prepper Survival Book 1) Page 7

by Hunt, James


  A small engraved plaque with the same inscription as every other community building rested under the candle. It was meant to inspire hope and a heightened sense of neighborly affection.

  “Let this continuous flame represent the burning desire for hope and faith in every citizen of the United States of America.”

  Todd made it a point to spit on it every time he passed it. The plaque was nothing more than a continued propaganda campaign against every free-thinking man and woman in the country. Citizens had exchanged lightbulbs for candles. Cars for carriages. Knowledge for security.

  Because glass was deemed too delicate and expensive, each community building was erected without windows. The small glow of the individual handheld candles provided the only light in the seemingly infinite darkness that consumed the room.

  The light of Todd’s candle finally stumbled across one of the splintered wooden benches used as seating. He was careful in sitting down, trying to avoid an unnecessary poke from the aged wood.

  “Talk about a literal pain in my ass,” Ray said, taking a seat next to Todd on the same bench.

  Ray Nickle was by far the only other community member that had as big a grievance as Todd. Ray kept his candle tilted at an angle, letting the hot wax drip and join the growing pile on the floor. He sat hunched over with his elbow on his knee, making his already small frame smaller. The biggest thing on Ray Nickle was his mouth.

  “Who the fuck is that new guy?” Ray asked.

  “I don’t know,” Todd answered.

  “Do you think they know anything? Did somebody talk?”

  “No, I don’t think so. If somebody talked, half the town would be on their way to a farm camp right now. Something else must have happened.”

  Three others joined Ray and Todd on the bench across from them. Emma Claire, Nelson Willow, and Billy Cooth. A few other community members walked in but sat by themselves or with their own groups of people. Having a new inspector in the community was a big change, and change was usually for the worse.

  “Do we know what that was all about?” Emma asked, dripping some of the hot wax onto her fingertip and rolling it around, coating her skin with a slick whitish gloss.

  “No,” Todd answered. “But we’ll figure it out.”

  “How are you not in a farm camp right now?” Nelson asked. “I mean for God’s sake, you’ve been on the new produce for weeks now.”

  “Maybe the Soil Coalition doesn’t have the resources for blood sampling anymore? It could all just be for show,” Billy said, through coughs and hacks.

  “No, did you see the way the new inspector reacted to the results? It wasn’t what he believed would happen. I think the lab tech skewed the data,” Todd said.

  “But why?” Ray asked. “If the Coalition found out, they’d toss his ass in a food camp faster than a whore skipping church on Sunday.”

  That was the one variable that escaped Todd. Why? He’d never met the lab tech who ran their blood test before. Could the lab rat have known who he was? Perhaps, but without more information, it was useless speculating on how they came through unscathed and who their mystery helper was.

  “Let’s focus on what we know. We just had a blood sampling a week ago. They’ve never been this close together in the past, so that leads me to believe something or someone tipped them off,” Todd said.

  Todd didn’t want to allude to any allegations that would lead to dissent within the group. Their bonds of trust were a major factor in what they were able to do and would hopefully continue to do. But Todd knew this day would come. The risks of secrecy came with a very high price, and if one of them decided to cash in, then it would put all of their work in jeopardy.

  “We are so close,” Emma said, squishing the growing collection of wax in her hand.

  “Well, I’m just gonna come right out and say it,” Ray said. “It wasn’t me. I know that’s what everybody is thinking. Don’t deny it. Ol’ Ray Nickle, just trying to save his own ass, but I’m not. So nobody even try.”

  “No one’s accusing anyone of anything,” Billy said.

  On cue, doubting their own words, they all looked over their shoulders. Some of the other people were caught staring at them and quickly turned back to their smaller groups.

  And despite Todd’s hope that the group still maintained their fortitude for the mission, he knew that every one of them would hit the proverbial wall eventually. It wasn’t something he could help them with. Each person had to overcome it on their own. It was a test he himself faced. He just hoped that his peers were strong enough to push through it.

  “The soil,” Todd said suddenly.

  “What?” Ray asked.

  “The soil sample we set east of here. Somebody could have found it,” Todd said.

  “It was less than a square foot,” Nelson replied.

  Billy turned to cough, sending a spray of phlegm and spit into his shoulder as he tried to cover his mouth. Todd noticed the unusual paleness of his skin and the glossy coat of sweat covering his face.

  “Billy, make sure you go see Ben today. You don’t look good,” Todd said.

  “Yeah,” Ray echoed, “And I don’t need you getting me sick.”

  “Yeah, I’ll see him after this,” Billy replied.

  “The probability that someone stumbled upon the soil accidentally is low, yes, but it is still a possibility,” Todd said, turning back to the discussion at hand.

  “It could have been picked up by a scout team,” Emma echoed.

  “I told you we should have brought it back,” Ray said, shaking his head.

  “I’ll go and take a look at it tomorrow. I’ll let you know what I find,” Todd said.

  Todd left them without another word. He blew the flame out on his candle and tossed the waxy nub into the barrel by the entrance.

  “Todd!” Emma waved her arms and ran to catch up with him. He slowed his pace, and when she grabbed his arm, he could feel the flakes of wax still lingering on her palm. “I want to come with you tomorrow.”

  Todd quickly fell back into his long stride. Emma stumbled forward after him, trying to keep up.

  “Just hear me out,” she said, sliding over the mud, trying to gain traction.

  “It’ll draw too much attention to ourselves.”

  “We don’t have to leave together; we’ll just meet up.”

  Todd stopped abruptly, and Emma slid forward. He grabbed her arm quickly to stop her from falling.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “Emma, it’s foolish. Go home.”

  And just as quickly as he stopped, Todd started off again, leaving Emma alone in the street. He knew it was harsh, but now wasn’t the time to be careless. And with the new inspector eyeballing him from across the street, he didn’t want to put her in any more danger than she already was.

  ***

  The sun greeted Todd’s sullen, pale face with the vigor in which he received it: lethargically. He scratched the side of his beard, pushing through the thick bracken on his face. His barren left ring finger twitched uncontrollably. He sat there on the edge of the bed, watching it spasm randomly. A reaction to another sleepless night.

  The pop of his knees brought a twinge of pain but mostly relief, as his body was thankful to be mobile and active once again. Todd quickly dressed and washed two caffeine pills down with a glass of water. He slipped on his shoes and picked at the flap forming from his loosened sole.

  Todd shut the door and stepped onto the grey ash of dirt that was his front yard. All around the country, there was nothing but dust. The winds had carried GMO-24 to every corner of the country. Whatever patches of fertile soil were left were guarded by tanks and soldiers.

  Todd checked over his shoulder a few times, keeping an eye out for the inspector from the day before. Once the coast was clear, he started his trek east. Todd adjusted the shoulder straps of the small sack he brought with him, which carried government synthetic food sticks that were provided to community members, and a bottle of water. The
food sticks were the government’s response to the soil crisis. Designed and created in a lab, then shipped in bulk to every corner of the country. It was what most people lived on now.

  The only issue with the synthetic foods was the human body’s ability to process it. Humans had evolved to their current state on fresh fruits and vegetables, red meat, and seafood. The human body could only absorb a fraction of what the sticks offered. Its original intent was to act as a supplement, but as the soil crisis grew more severe, it became a meal replacement.

  Starving was the slowest death Todd had ever seen. One by one, your muscles, bones, organs, and other tissues weakened. The nerve, immune, and other bodily systems became less efficient, struggling to perform their basic functions. A person’s motor skills would start to fail them, along with the ability to think clearly.

  For Todd, that was the hardest part to watch. The mind deteriorated. He could see the light behind each pair of eyes dim. Once the mind devolved to the basic necessities of survival in locating food and water, people became animalistic.

  Three years ago, when the relocation efforts were put into place, there were only two types of faces on the people that arrived in the community. The first had a blank glare, a mind fogged and sluggish, a breath away from death.

  The other face concealed a mind lowered to an animalistic ruthlessness. The territorial gorillas and bears that guarded their ground fiercely had found their way into the communities, towns, and cities limping along. The capacity for reason and logic had long escaped them. All that was left was instinct.

  Instinct. Such a vile word. Todd detested that word. For decades, he was forced to listen to scholars, educated men and women, use that term to describe the actions of people.

  “It’s our natural instinct to be violent. It’s our human instinct to destroy. It was his instinct to react that way. It was her instinct that caused her to go down that road. You have to listen to your instincts.”

  Well, those firm believers in instincts had finally been given what they had clamored for. The pillars of choice and reason had crumbled. People now lived in slums, forced to work at gunpoint, separated from their family and friends.

  Everything Todd had done over the past year was in laborious effort to rebuild those long-forgotten structures. He wanted to return to a time of acumen and intellect. To be able to walk down a street, a paved street, with new shoes. He wanted to look at the faces of the people around him and see their exuberant souls greet him through their eyes. He wanted to go through his day without the mention of the word hunger. He wanted to sleep like he did when he was a child, unafraid and peaceful. He wanted people to act of their own free will and not based off the repercussions from some thug with a rifle. He wanted a world better than what he inherited.

  What made it all worse was the fact that they had squandered it. The human race had so many chances to get it right, and time and time again they continued to kill each other. They beat their neighbors. They drained the sources of life around them for the pointless pursuit of empty pleasures.

  But he was so close. His research was on the brink of a breakthrough. All of the tests he’d run to ensure it was safe were coming to an end. His body’s nutrition levels were the highest they’d been since before the soil crisis. But if anyone from the Soil Coalition found out about his work, all would be lost. They would return to a world of squandered resources helmed by the same type of men and women who had brought the country to its current state. He couldn’t let that happen again.

  Todd was building more than just a cure. He was building a movement, but patience and time were running out. And the new inspector was only going to exacerbate the situation. Something needed to be done. Quickly.

  ***

  Sydney had never been so happy to be back in Topeka. Every piece of equipment in his lab seemed to glow upon his return. The sturdy walls, the locked door, and the cold air blowing through the vents all made him feel safe. He treasured the security of familiarity.

  He opened his briefcase and pulled out his notes from the project he was working on before he was allocated to the field. Upon his search for his work, he stumbled across the data from the blood sampling in the town he visited.

  The small personal thumb drive where he kept old pictures and projects contained the raw, untampered data. Sydney drew the blinds to the windows in the lab and locked the door. He stuck the drive into the side of his laptop and downloaded the information. He reached for his notebook while the loading bar inched from sixty to seventy percent.

  Sydney flipped through the pages of the notebook, searching for the man’s name who had the high nutrition levels. It was on the tip of his tongue, but it eluded him. The computer beeped, signaling a finish to the download, when he finally found it. Todd Penn.

  He traced his finger over the name, feeling the indentation from the ink on the paper. That name, and the man it represented, was a mystery to him. He needed to solve it.

  The resources of the lab here in Topeka far exceeded any of the field labs that the Coalition used during blood tests. He had the finest equipment the country had to offer, which was a fabricated truth, because many of the scientific tools that could have helped him solve the puzzle had been destroyed in the violence that thundered after the first failed harvest.

  Most of the equipment was actually quite old. And anything that broke down took a very long time to fix. The soil crisis didn’t just kill plant life, it also killed most of the brain power that was trained in repairing these delicate instruments.

  However, Sydney’s resources were far greater than anything that Todd Penn could have had access to, and if he was in fact the missing link to the country’s problem, then he was confident he could decipher the hidden codes inside Mr. Penn’s blood.

  A knock at the door made Sydney jump, and he spilled the water from the mug in his hand over the keyboard. He desperately patted the keys with his shirt, trying to wipe up the water before it seeped into the circuits. More pounding shook the lab’s door.

  “Just a minute!” Sydney cried out.

  He closed the programs on his computer and removed the thumb drive. He stuffed it into his pocket as he unlocked the door.

  Jared wore a stony expression that contrasted with his three-piece suit and poked his thick forefinger at the wet splashes on Sydney’s lab coat. “What is that?”

  “Water,” Sydney answered.

  Jared stepped inside, his large frame almost taking up the entire doorframe. “Why was the door locked?”

  Sydney twirled his fingers around one another, keeping his head down. He fidgeted from side to side, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet. “All of my work here is considered confidential. You know that.”

  “I was told you were sent out into the field? Is that true?”

  Sydney nodded, but Jared still had his back to him, so he didn’t see.

  “Sydney!” Jared bellowed.

  Sydney gave the same startled jump as before. The stern, commanding voice had always caused him stress. There was always a disappointed tone underlying Jared’s every word.

  “Y-yes. I was,” Sydney answered.

  “I put you here as a favor to your mother, not because of your expertise in the field. Now, the next time Gordon tells you to head out, I want you to tell him no, do you understand me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “For God’s sake, grow a backbone. Stand up straight!”

  Jared grabbed his son by the shoulders and practically lifted him off the floor and dropped him from midair. Sydney’s heels smacked the floor hard, and a jolt of pain rushed up his spine. He rubbed his lower back as he attempted to reach the height he never seemed to be able to as a boy.

  “Have you spoken to your mother recently?” Jared asked.

  “No, sir.”

  “I want you to call her this afternoon. I’m tired of her asking me about you.”

  Jared looked around at all of the closed blinds and the water dripping from Sydney’s desk
from the earlier spill. He shook his head.

  “Do you have any idea how many other qualified candidates I had for this job? Hmm? And here you are, spilling your drink all over the equipment. Do you have any idea how hard it was to obtain all of this? And do you know how difficult it is to have it fixed? Sloppy,” he said, shaking his head. “You’ve always been sloppy!”

  “It won’t happen again.”

  “Hmph. Well, make sure it doesn’t. I have a meeting to attend. I’ve already vented my frustrations on Gordon, so he will most likely swing by later. Be sure this place is cleaned up. I don’t need any more embarrassment from you.”

 

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