Ruined Between the Sheets: An Anthology of Dystopian Stories that Get to the Point

by L. A. Boruff

  Who needed a fifty-million-dollar jet? Obviously, the Evangelical preachers did. What, with their mega-million-dollar mansions and ten sports cars—praising God for giving them a good life. Leading their flock into believing the money they’ve sent in or handed over while sitting in those ridiculously large, verbose amphitheaters actually went toward their salvation...

  It made him sick.

  What God, in his/hers/its right mind, would allow children to suffer unimaginable pain? Would allow children to die day in and day out in school shootings? What God would allow mass genocide? Floods? Earthquakes? What God would allow diseases like Cancer and AIDS to run rampant, and allow it to rip families apart?

  There isn’t an answer.

  Because God didn’t exist, and he planned to prove it using the stupidity of man against themselves.

  He waited until the lights were turned out before he emerged from the bathroom. For three days he waited, scouting the area to be sure he knew when the change of shifts occurred and when the best possible time to take the scrolls would be. He stepped into the exhibit area and followed the signs to where the “ancient” text lay. All of the glass boxes had sensors. If he tripped one, he tripped them all.

  He’d been prepared though.

  Pulling the glass cutting tool out of his pack, he contemplated where the best entry point would be; low near the frame or high at the seam. Both places would work, one though might be closer to the sensor. He chose the middle of the glass to be on the safe side. He placed the cutter near the middle of the case then began the slow, torturous task of breaking the glass. He swallowed hard and swiped away the sweat sliding down his temple before removing the circular piece of glass.

  Success.

  Anxiousness became elation as he reached in and pulled each scroll from the display then shoved them into his satchel. Once he broke down his gear, he placed it in his bag and made his way out of the museum. This time, he didn’t care if he set off any alarms. He had what he wanted, and no one would find him.

  He’d be hiding in plain sight.

  Since he’d found an empty space to call his own, he didn’t worry about anyone finding him. No one came and went from the building. He suspected no one knew about it either. He ditched his equipment in a junkyard, leaving only his satchel and clothing. He didn't have any worries of being discovered. School hadn't started yet, so he'd been one of only a few students on campus. Besides, no one gave him the time of day.

  They would now.

  He locked the door behind him and placed his bag on his bed. In the cooler beside it sat a container of fresh lamb’s blood. There were four seals he meant to open that night—one more the day before school started. Each of the seals being broken would be his testament to there not being a God and societies stupidity.

  After throwing on his black cloak, he opened a footlocker near the foot of his bed. Inside, were red, white and black candles, a pentagram and several other religious tokens. None of which he took the time to study or learn about. They were all false anyway, what did it matter? He placed the first of the four scrolls into the box then began the ritual for unleashing the end of the world.

  Present Day...

  “Nova Blom,” Nova said, stepping into the classroom. The TA in front of her stared at her for a second before his fingers flew over the keys of his laptop. “Like a flower bloom. Only with one “o” instead of two.”

  She grinned, trying her best to make a great first impression. The first day of class, excitement coursed through her. I can’t believe it’s my first year of college! An excited thrill ran down her spine. Finally, she’d gotten away from her father. It might have taken an extra ten months to put together the money to run away, but she did it and it’d been worth it too.

  Her father didn’t like the idea of girls—women going to school—ever. When Nova’s mother passed away, he thought it best she learn how to become a housewife while also prepping for the end times. She shivered at the thought. Her father had a warped view of life and the whole end of the world thing. They were Pentecostals. Yes, they were the congregation that loved to introduce snakes to their sermons and tempt death by trusting they'd never get bit. Her father also believed he spoke in tongues the minute he stares into the eyes of a serpent. He'd been bitten a time or three. Four actually. No, six times. Heck, Nova couldn't keep track anymore.

  They were also part of the Evangelical faith doctrine. Her father believed in fire and brimstone. He believed if he could physically beat each chapter and verses into people, the world would be a better place. Nova, on the other hand, she trusted in science. Of course, she didn't say such things while at home. Her father disciplined her as the Bible dictated. Spare the rod, spoil the child. Which meant, going to school sometimes with belt marks on her bottom. Thankfully, the skirts she wore—never pants—covered it up.

  Although, there was one time her father didn’t do so well with the whole making sure his punishment wasn’t seen. On that occasion, she spent time with her aunt Ida and uncle Devin in California. She liked it there. Her uncle Devin was a researcher for Caltech and her aunt Ida taught at a local high school.

  If she had to say who got her involved in archeology and geology it was Devin. He and a few other scientists were trying to perfect the new early warning systems for earthquakes. So far, they'd been able to warn the public at least a few minutes before the first initial shockwaves begin. Hopefully, soon, they'd be able to give the public hours.

  “Ah, here you are.” The TA gave her a small smile. “You’re the only freshman in this class. We could transfer you to the evening session if you’d prefer.”

  She shook her head. “I have a class at night. This will be fine.”

  “Suit yourself,” he said. “If you haven’t done so already, please pick up a copy of Astronomy and Archeology: A guide to discovery, at the student store today.”

  “Already bought it.” She pulled the book from her bag. “Read the first three chapters. Interesting how both subjects can co-exist, don’t you agree?”

  His brows shot up while he visibly relaxed. “Sure. I think you’re going to enjoy the class.”

  “I think I will too,” she said, inching into the area behind him.

  She didn't know what to expect when her schedule said auditorium, but this... There had to be enough room for at least a hundred students if not more. The seating was amphitheater style and she stood at the halfway point. She could either take a seat in the middle, climb to the top or walk to the bottom. The downside to being front and center; having to climb back up to exit the room.

  Above the stage area of the classroom was a white six-panel semi-circle projection screen and along walls were small strategically placed speakers. The lighting for the room had been recessed as well, which dimmed automatically as natural light filled the classroom.

  From where Nova stood, she had a great view of the whiteboard on the wall and could also see the screen if need be. She filed down the aisle and took a seat in the middle then waited for class to start. She hated to admit it, but she’d been nervous the whole morning. She didn’t know anyone there nor had she yet to introduce herself to her roommate. When she decided to enroll at TSU—Turnskin University, she’d done so with the hopes of getting as far away as she could from her father. She didn’t care if there were shifters or others co-mingling with humans.

  The idea intrigued her.

  Her father, on the other hand, didn’t believe in the mixing of species. Humans stuck with humans and that was that—even though the Bible says no such thing. She figured; he’d have had a coronary if he’d dropped her off there for orientation—if he’d allowed her to come to begin with—which she knew he wouldn’t. As it was, he’d already picked someone out for Nova to marry.

  The guy was nice. She’d known him almost her whole life. But he was gay and, like her, wanted to run away. So, they made a pact. When she left for school, he’d follow and then go do his own thing. Drew deserved to be happy. He deserved to find
someone in his life that would actually love him, not send him to conversion therapy camp every summer so he could “pray away the gay.”

  She shivered.

  The last time Drew went, she swore he came back broken. She cried for days, while she tried to come up with their plan to get them out of there. Even though she didn’t believe in forcing him to marry her, Nova told her father they’d do it on one condition. Drew and she could have one day out of town alone.

  For some reason, her father fell for it. Maybe it was because Drew’s father owned one of the largest security system companies in the country and her father designed bunkers for those doomsday preppers like him, and she assumed he thought he’d won the lottery. None of it mattered though. It gave them a way out of there when they both desperately needed it.

  They hid their things deep in the woods away from their properties a few days before they decided to leave. It would make it easier than trying to shove a suitcase into a vehicle in broad daylight or in front of their parents. When Drew picked her up in his ragtop ’66 Ford Bronco they drove away from the gated community they lived in and headed straight for where they left their stuff. The whole time they loaded the vehicle, Nova's heart pounded, and she kept a lookout for anyone who might find them. She didn't breathe a sigh of relief or relax until they were on the highway headed west.

  Nova didn’t look back.

  The two and a half days she spent with Drew on the road were amazing. She could feel the weight of the world slipping away from her shoulders with each tick of a mile put between her and home. Since both of them had pulled as much cash from their wedding account as they could without it seeming suspicious, they had to be careful how they spent it.

  The first night on the road, they slept under the stars, the second a small, cheap hotel room that allowed them to pay in cash. When Drew dropped her off in Colorado, he promised he'd call her once he arrived in California and he did. He said something about needing to see the ocean at least once and getting his feet wet before he settled into his new life.

  Wherever Drew ended up, she hoped he’d be happy.

  “This seat taken?” A guy, at least a foot taller than her, with long white-blond hair and pale-blue eyes, loomed over her. There'd been a gap between where his grungy shirt hung, and the hem of his tight, low-riding jeans clung to his hips. She licked her lips. Nothing about him gave off a wholesome vibe. On the inside of his left arm, he had a really interesting tattoo, a plague doctor holding a scythe. Nova took a moment to appreciate the artwork before lifting her gaze to meet his. The corner of his mouth stretched into a smug smirk or maybe cocky...like he'd caught her checking him out.

  “N-no,” she said. “Please sit.”

  He grunted then folded his large body into the seat. He glanced in her direction and held out his hand. “Paul.”

  She arched a brow. “I’m sorry?”

  Again, he smiled, but it didn’t reach his pale-blue eyes. “My name.” He pointed to himself. “Paul.”

  “Oh.” Heat filled her cheeks. “Nova.”

  “Well, Nova looks like we have a class together.” He turned slightly and faced the front of the class. “Don’t get too distracted by my good looks, ’kay.”

  She snorted then coughed. She'd tried to not to be too obvious checking him out, however, how could she not stare at him? Ugh. She wanted to curl into a ball and die. “Not an issue.”

  “So, you’re saying I’m not your type then?”

  Is this guy for real? “Wouldn’t know. I just met you.”

  “Good answer,” Paul said.

  She scrunched up her nose and opened her mouth to respond when a door she hadn’t seen when she walked in, opened and their teacher—er—professor stepped into the room. The soft murmurs of conversations that weaved through the auditorium quieted.

  Paul leaned close. The scent of patchouli oil and something a bit spicy wafted from him. Her mouth watered from the intoxicating smell. “We should hang out some time.” He inhaled and let out a soft breath. The small hairs at the back of her neck stood on end and goosebumps formed along her jaw and right below her ear.

  “We should?” She didn’t dare look away from the professor who donned a mic and clipped the pack to his pants.

  “Oh yeah,” he replied.

  “Maybe.” She cut her gaze toward him. The flirty tone of her voice surprised the crap out of her. She didn’t flirt. It was forbidden. If her father ever caught doing such with a boy, much less talking to a guy, she’d be punished.

  “Good afternoon class, welcome to Astronomy and Archeology. My name is, Professor Alexander,” the man in front of the class said. “I know you’re probably thinking, what do those two subjects have in common and why are they being taught together.”

  The lights went out and the giant screen lit up with over a billion stars. The Milky Way came into focus as the scene panned down to the desert below. “The answer is simple because mankind throughout millions of years of evolution has always looked to the heavens to explore, to discover, and to study.”

  Photographs and scenes played across the screen. Constellations drifted through the night sky as Earth turned on its axis. The deserts of Egypt were next. Hieroglyphics and obelisks flashed before her eyes and gave way to the pyramids and the Nile. When it changed again, archeologists stood at the base of the granite stone pyramids in Machu Picchu.

  It was a feast of wonder for her. A deep desire to know more built within her. The need to understand more, took root within her belly as she stared wide-eyed at the video the professor showed them. When it was over, it returned to the scene in Joshua Tree National Forest. A shooting star zipped across the night sky before fizzling out to nothing. The screen went blank and the lights came back on.

  “This semester, you will learn about the balance of life and how following the stars became civilizations calendar. You’ll also learn why their calendar also led to the demise of several ancient civilizations.”

  The TA who greeted her at the door along with several other people started up the stairs toward them. In each of their hands were stacks of papers. When each row had a person by it, they handed out the packets. The person closest to her handed over the stack, and she took one then handed the rest off to Paul who also grabbed a copy.

  “Inside the packet, you will find your first assignment. It's a group project. Since there are a little more than a hundred students in the class, I would like you to break into teams of two. Both of you will be graded on participation, research, and organization. I will also be grading you on style. How you arrive at your answers along with how you present your solutions and theories as well,” Professor Alexander said. “This assignment will be due in two weeks.”

  “Told you we should hang out,” Paul said.

  “Are you saying you’d like to be my partner?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” He turned to her, his knee brushed hers. “I think we could dominate this class together.”

  “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  He laughed. “No—”

  A gasp from the back of the room snared their attention. A bolt of red lightning, nothing like she’d ever seen before, streaked across the rapidly darkening sky. Paul grumbled something, but she’d been too enthralled by the scene evolving outside to understand him. The wind lashed at the trees, bending them to-and-fro. Another streak of red spread across the sky like tiny electric fingers reaching out for a long-lost lover. In the distance, the clouds turned an eerie shade of green.

  Nova knew that color.

  She called it x-ray green.

  It was the color clouds turned when a tornado touched down in the area. A whimper escaped her lips. Without saying a word, Paul gathered her in his arms. She hated tornadoes. Her father, on the other hand, loved them. Called them God’s vacuum cleaners. Said they only showed up when wickedness was about. She never understood his sentiments about weather phenomenon. What kind of wickedness could cause God to kill a mother and her children because t
hey couldn’t get out of their mobile home in time?

  Lightning flashed again and this time was accompanied by a trail of fire. A scream tore through the class as panic set in. Students pushed each other out of the way to get to safety.

  “We have to go,” Paul whispered against her ear. “Do you trust me to keep you safe?”

  She nodded. She didn’t know him from Adam, still, she realized she had a better chance of surviving with him than alone. “Yes.”

  “Grab your stuff,” he said.

  “Class, I need you to calm down and file out in an orderly fashion.” Professor Alexander continued to stare outside while the wind kicked up, throwing chairs and umbrellas across the lawn.

  “We’re not going with them,” Paul said, making his way down the middle set of stairs.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, wrapping my arms around his neck.

  “Under. Where Professor Alexander came from.”

  She’d been so caught up in the grandness of the room, she hadn’t noticed there’d been a whole area beneath the amphitheater until the man had stepped out from under there. Paul hurried down the stairs, skirting past those who panicked and couldn’t move. When he got to the bottom he opened the door, and they stepped into the darkened space, moments before the crash of glass windows startled her.

  “Take it this is your first tornado,” Paul said.

  “No,” she answered. “More surprised.”

  “Me too.”

  They huddled on the floor against the wall farthest from the door. His heart raced, matching Nova’s. His breath came in soft pants.

  “You didn’t have to carry me,” she whispered.

  “It was quicker.” He adjusted her so that she straddled his lap. “Here.” His fingers tangled in her hair and he pressed her face to his neck. “For protection.”

  Though the position was intimate, it also felt safe. Sheltered. She also didn’t miss the bulge in his pants, pressing against the V of her legs. She swallowed hard and was grateful he couldn’t see her face. By the heat alone, she swore she must have been cherry red.