The Turnaround

By Anneliese Lane

The Turn Around is a new era in history. Society is completely revamped from what it was founded as and people have new morals that create a set back for those who still believe in freedom and justice for all. The government is in total control and are a threat to humanity. Most of humanity is unable to deflect the attempt of take over from the government. They are at a disadvantage because of the new technology in weapon design and efficiency. Patrol officials, created in the image of the gover

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 9, 2015
• ISBN: 9781634178723

Book preview

Chapter 1

Here I was on another wonderful summer evening, walking through the woods as I usually do to clear my mind. In my peripheral vision, I saw three boys walking briskly. I took a closer look and decided that they couldn’t have been older than ten. One was leading a rope. The animal must have been hidden behind the foliage in the clearing because it was not in view for me to see. The oldest, who may have been ten, was carrying a small box.

It looked like the boxes that the doctors would use to give us our vaccinations, obedience enhances, and what I liked to call, quality of life reducers.

Maybe, the boys were out killing the animal with the lethal shot that the small box contained. Sometimes, those sorts of things were permitted and even suggested. Some of the people were farmers for the government-owned stores and had regulations for work, depending on what they were assigned. Maybe the boys worked one of the farms in a town not far from here in the east.

As I walked closer, one of them turned. They didn’t mind that I was standing there. They didn’t act suspicious either. Hey, mister, shouted the oldest.

Hello, boys, what are you up to on this fine night? I replied politely in the modern language.

Well, doing a chore for Mommy and God! shouted the youngest. He must have been six. God, that was a word I hadn’t heard another human say since the Turnaround happened. It was an idea that gave people freedom, and freedom was the last thing that the government wanted. I didn’t even know if it was the government running us at all, but what other name could be given to a power that looked over society?

Snapping out of my thoughts I said, Oh, very cool! What might that be?

Mom told me that it was Grandpa’s time to go and that God spoke with her, yelled the middle child in a matter-of-fact fashion.

Yea, he even left her an official note! called the oldest.

I walked closer, peering into the clearing to see an older man behind the tree tied by the hands. He looked at me with pleading eyes.

He was pale, maybe forty-five. He had slightly black graying hair. The government, not God, must have disliked him and sent the euthanasia shot and official letter. The mother was just softening it for the kids. When the government does those kinds of things, they usually wanted proof of death. I wondered why she sent her boys to do the dirty work. I was not sure what proof they could bring back either. It was not like we had personal cameras and phones anymore to take pictures.

Hey, boys, what if I take him to God myself? I know where he lives! I said persuasively.

You know where he lives? The youngest gawked in disbelief.

Sure do. I motioned toward the north.

Cool, can we come? said the middle child.

What will your mother think?

She was trying to get us out of the house anyway! cried the youngest.

Why do you say that? I asked.

She told us she had friends coming over, and they were going to make sure Grandpa was gone to please God, said the middle child.

We can handle this mister. I’m sure either way Grandpa will be taken to God, insisted the oldest.

You think so? I questioned, beginning to get frustrated. Human life is precious, thoughts are precious, and this Turnaround had to stop.

Ever since the rebellion of the free and our loss, it had been bad. We fought for our lives and fought for what we loved and lost. All of that went down in an unfair manner too. Not only did we have less people to support, but most of us who fought against the government were destroyed. Destroyed by weaponry unheard of or seen before. It was like they had been hiding that for years just waiting to strike. They used equipment that was out of this world. Even the old movies couldn’t comprehend. The guns disintegrated human flesh, reducing it to a putrefying powder. The weapons would glow purple with a chemical compound that was unstable. The highest military leaders didn’t even know about that equipment until it was too late. That led me to believe it wasn’t the government at all.

The destruction of the brave and free-spirited resulted with the world we lived in where people didn’t remember freedom and didn’t try to think about it because of fear, fear of the new officers who enforced brutality and mutilation upon those who did not cohere with the new world order. The Turnaround was just the government’s way of ruling society in the way they wanted it to be. All the Turnaround really became was a scheme to take diversity and freedom and turn it 180 degrees into a uniformed command center that was easier to deal with. The president’s job couldn’t be easier if there was a president. I was pretty sure there was a dictatorship behind the patrol officers. I had had my fair share of encounters with them, and they seemed bound tightly by the hair on their necks. They were afraid too, I could tell. There I go again, getting lost in thought. The boys must think I am nuts.

Well, I hate to do this to you, but, boys, the government wants him dead. If God wanted him dead, he would have taken him on his own, I blurted. There I was, just spilling the beans as usual in a very blunt way. They are kids, cool it. I said to myself.

The boys blinked and took all of it in. They looked a bit shocked.

Why would Momma lie? asked the youngest.

She was trying to make you feel better. I’m not sure why she wanted you to do it, I pondered.

She wanted us out of the house. That way, those people checking up on Grandpa wouldn’t find out, explained the oldest. I already figured it all out. I didn’t need your confirmation, mister. I don’t want to kill him, but it protects us and Momma. They have already raised an eyebrow at my family. With our father being lost, I am the man of the house and decide what to do, he continued to explain.

Hmm, I understand very well. How about this, I made a safe house down that way a bit, I pointed. No one will ever find us. When I saw the times getting strange, I built this place with my sisters. I have lived there quite a while. No one ever found me, not even the spiders, I teased. We can go get your mom and hide away. I have some books and games from when I was your age. They are fun. I looked everywhere, and all they sell now are the dull censored ones. What do you say?

Games? squealed the youngest. Yes, please!

I agree, said the middle child, smiling.

The oldest just looked at me skeptically. Before he could say anything, the grandpa spoke, So you really are one of us?

Yes, the few and the proud, I teased, remembering my time in the marines before the epidemic.

I have so many questions. My daughter will be so relieved.

There will be time for questions, but we should go help her before something happens, I pushed.

I sent the grandpa in the direction of my safe house and walked back with the boys. I was not sure why I felt so attached to those people already, but it could have been the fact that they believed in what I did and that was rare. It seemed especially rare that they were so willing to separate themselves.

The oldest was still holding the medical box. I looked at him as he held it firmly. He looked straight ahead pretending not to notice my curiosity.

Mind if I take a peek? I gestured to the box.

Oh. He contemplated before giving it up cautiously. He didn’t trust me yet. I don’t blame him. The world we lived in before wasn’t nearly that bad, and we still questioned strangers. I was surprised he gave it up at all.

Thanks, I said as I opened it.

Inside was a shot. I looked at it. It was different than the ones I had seen. Perhaps, that was a different shot the mother replaced for the euthanasia. It looked like the kind that was delivered daily to my parent’s old house. That type was meant for relaxing. Relaxing, yea right, more like brain washing or killing the brain’s natural ability to think. Bitter memories.

Boys, looks like your mom is pretty smart and had a plan. This isn’t the euthanasia shot. She may be in danger though. She wanted her loved ones out of the house. How much farther?

The oldest scrunched his brow in thought and said, One mile from here. They began to run as they saw the chimney smoke go out.

She never lets the fire stop burning, especially when we haven’t found our way home for the night yet, whispered the youngest. He seemed scared at the thought.

Okay, boys, wait here. If anything happens, take that trail north, and you will come across your grandpa and my safe house. I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a .45 pistol. The boys’ eyes bugged out. Cool! they shouted in unison.

Shhh!

Sorry, aren’t those illegal? You could go to the chair for that, whispered the oldest.

The chair was a wonderful method of ancient torture they still used but in a revised way. They used the chair as a demonstration. They pulled out a big metal chair, put it on a stage in the towns, and strapped the victim in with barbed wire. No chance of escape. Once seated, they explained to the crowd that that would happen to them if they ever tried to be different. Electricity was shot through the metal and instantly fried the victim, simple and ancient. Compared to the new technology of weapons, I was surprised they used it at all. Perhaps, it was slow and painful rather than instant.

I saved it from the days when they were legal. I have hidden it every time the officials came to search my house and the neighbors’ to clear such nonsense. I have many like it. I will show you later. We are wasting time. I’ll be right back. Stay hidden.

They nodded. I strode down the hill through the greenery toward the small house. There was a community of twenty houses. It was nice to see rural homes. The cities had no diversity. They were apartments of hideous similarity.

I hid for a moment under the windowsill and looked in. I saw a few dark figures and a woman. She sat on the chair, talking. I could faintly make out what they were discussing.

Well, where is our proof?

He’s dead, I swear. I sent my boys. I got the official letter and understood the consequences, she spoke frantically.

If you did so, then where is the proof? the voice needled.

The boys will be back any moment. They don’t stay out past dark. The law doesn’t allow it anyways, she pushed.

We will be back in two hours. We are being more than generous. You know what will happen if you don’t have our proof when we return. Oh, by the way, he said as they walked out the door, don’t try and run. You know what happens to those who run.

I waited until they were gone and ran around to the front door. I knocked twice.

The door opened. I’ve been expecting you, she murmured.

Chapter 2

She told me to sit down on the comfy sofa in the far end of the room. She was making some lemonade. The house was small but cozy. The kitchen was connected to the living room, and a large fireplace smoldered in the center wall. There were stairs leading to an upper room that was darkened however.

Here you are, Dalton, she said, handing me a beverage.

How do you know my name? I was baffled. I studied her and decided she couldn’t have been older than twenty-five. She was very pretty with her long brown hair and shining eyes.

God— He told me in a dream everything would work out. My boys would go into the woods and find you. You would save us. Possibly, the whole world? I wasn’t sure. Her eyes’ expression looked far away.

I don’t understand. You could have been dreaming. How could you put your life into the hand of a dream that could have been imaginary?

It was my only hope. The dream was unlike any I had before. She smiled, remembering the dream.

Interesting, there is plenty of time to talk but come along. The boys are waiting.

After the mother packed a few items, the two of them hiked up the hill. The boys ran to her and embraced her. She kissed their foreheads.

This is Tom, she said, motioning to the smallest. He’s very quick on his feet for his age. This is Scotty. She squeezed the shoulder of the middle child. He has a good eye, can see a couple miles away without trouble. It amazes me. This big guy here is Gage. He is the oldest and is wonderful at almost everything he tries. I am Justine.

I smiled, not sure what to say besides, It’s good to meet you all. I am Dalton.

We walked in silence for a while before coming across the grandpa. It had been nearly two hours since the patrol had been by Justine’s house. They would be back soon and would be looking for her family. If they found her, they would all be murdered and made an example in the town. The officials liked to show that they were intolerant of any behavior that did not fit the code. They liked to instill fear in the hearts of the public. The more brutal conduct, the less physical outbreak would result.

The family embraced the grandpa and properly introduced him as Kurt. We walked a few feet to a giant pine tree. It was old, cracking, and five foot thick.

I walked behind it and pulled a branch. One of the roots lifted high enough to squeeze under. I went inside first and then helped the rest down the ladder.

The interior was large and contained separate chambers for specific purposes. The great room with tattered furniture was in the center. Three rooms broke off from it. One was the kitchen. The other two were sleeping chambers, but each had another reason for being. One contained many guns hung on the wall. That was my room. The other only contained a locked closet.

Dalton, are there others living here? questioned Justine.

No . . . Not anymore.

Chapter 3

Istood in the kitchen making a stew. I knew the family must have been as hungry as I was after the long trek back. The smell was aromatic and mouthwatering.

I tossed the rabbit into the boiling water with vegetables. I picked the vegetables the day prior by the river. I planted them in the spring and checked on them frequently. The ground was fertile there and was always abundant. Occasionally, I could catch a fish or two to make eating more exciting.

It didn’t feel like the summers I had twelve years ago when I was eighteen. It had been seven years since the Turnaround, and everything changed. No more enjoying life for what it was. It was all about survival in that world, a world that no longer nourished the free minded and intelligent.

The stew finished simmering, and I placed five bowls around the tiny table I had made from a large oak two years ago. The family flooded in. The boys scarfed down their food. Justine and Kurt ate slower, but I could tell they were famished. They didn’t sell these kinds of foods at the pre-approved stores or eateries. I had gone, in the beginning, a few times just to look. Most of the foods from the old days were gone. The new foods had chemicals and medicines in them to keep society mellow and blinded from reality. They also didn’t taste very good. It was no wonder the people were drooling over my natural and nutritious stew. My sisters were better cooks, but I got by on my own from what they taught me.

Thank you for taking us in. We are good people and hard working, assured Kurt.

No problem, I was beginning to get lonely. I gave them a smile to reassure their means of raining on my parade. I was glad I had found trustworthy people. I was beginning to lose hope for all of humanity. Living alone and not talking to other people was going radical on my brain.

What happened to the others that used to live here? Justine wondered aloud.

Gone now. My two little sisters, they were taken away one day on our evening walk three years ago. Stella was fifteen, and Allison was nineteen. I walked away for just a couple of minutes, leaving them alone. I had my crossbow slung around my shoulder because I wanted to catch the ginormous rabbit I saw scurry off into the clearing. When I came back with the brute hanging around my neck, the patrol was taking the girls. We were not wearing the dress code or living in a town. They don’t like the disobedience. I’m not sure what happened to them. I don’t even know where to look. Plus, it has been too long. Even if I wanted to look, they probably are dead. I put my head down on the table. Justine patted my shoulder and whispered to me, It will be okay, it always works out.

After a few moments, we all got up and retired to the great room. It was cozy and stayed warm from the natural insulation of the earth.

I walked into my room and pulled open my closet. There were many clothes I had taken with me, especially the girls’ clothes. My sisters were persistent about not leaving a single piece behind.

Here you all are, please make yourselves at home, I said as I handed them the clothing I picked out for them.

Wow! exclaimed the boys.

They ran into the other room and changed. It was exciting to get new clothes in a world hungry for diversity.

The outfits that the government warranted were strictly white. Long skirts were for the women and pants for the men. I was surprised they allowed the difference for gender. The shirts that accompanied the outfits were the same for both genders however. The blandness was exactly how they wanted the world—lifeless.

Moonlight peeked through the ceiling. The ceiling also offered natural light in the day time that would not give away the position. The nighttime beams of light were dim and made it hard to study my visitors. I could tell they were happy to be here.

Kurt and Justine changed their clothing as well. Oh my, I haven’t felt this comfort in years. Silk, denim, and cotton, what a luxury. Thank you, Justine cried out. I feel like a kid again at Christmastime.

The boys made themselves comfortable