Submission: Check Mate, #1

By Sallie Cochren

How far would you go to stop a cruel dictator and his barbaric reality show?

In the far distant future, President Aldrich struggles to maintain control of what little is left of the United States after World War III decimates most of the country. He has embarked on a cruel dictatorship as he rules over the township of San Tropolis, the former city of Los Angeles. Assisting Aldrich, his brother hosts Check Mate, a show that rewards assailants for killing people. The prize for successfully completing their kill? One million dollars!

Aldrich and the High Council seem unstoppable. People must submit to their rules or face the consequences. That includes accepting the barbarism of Check Mate since even badmouthing the show can land them in trouble. Living in fear, most people follow the rules. However, Aldrich may have a fight on his hands when one small group of plotters set out to put an end to the show.

When the leader of the plotters falls in love with their newest member, Maria, he worries that he won't be able to keep her safe. Can Darren protect her as their rebellion escalates and puts more of them in danger? Who will be the next casualty of Aldrich's regime?

The plotters know they need more people. But will they accept the violent ways of their new members, or will their methods make them as bad as Aldrich? One thing is for certain. Things are changing. People are beginning to take a stand. In a township with growing hatred for the High Council, the plotters may get some unexpected help!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sallie Cochren
• Release date: Mar 16, 2025
• ISBN: 9798227880765

Sallie Cochren

Sallie Cochren has always loved a good story and enjoys a variety of genres. She started writing short stories and skits as a child, thinking it was a great way to spend her free time. She always wanted to write a book, but her teaching career kept her so busy that there was rarely time to write. When she retired, she finally had time to focus on her writing and fulfill her lifelong dream of writing a novel. Since then, she has published many stories and novels in a variety of genres that include fantasy, science fiction, dystopian fiction, paranormal, animal fiction and others. When she isn't writing, she enjoys watching movies, reading, going for walks in nature and listening to music. She is also an animal lover and has shared her life with both cats and dogs. Her Alien Cats series and Let the Purring Begin were inspired by pets that she had at various stages of her life.

Book preview

Table of Contents

Map of San Tropolis

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

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Author’s Notes

Other Books by the Author

Map of San Troppolis

Chapter 1

May 2115

He looks nervous, Frank Sommers observed.

Frank was the host of Check Mate. He was also the president’s brother. He was watching footage from one of the previous episodes of Check Mate with his friend, Nancy. Nancy was the show’s office manager. She was an attractive twenty-four-year-old woman with long, brown hair and blue eyes. She wore her hair straight and had parted it on the side today.

Yes, very much so, Nancy agreed. He’s second-guessing himself, wondering if he can make the kill.

The computer screen showed a man hiding behind a tree that stood beside a two-story house.

It’s because he’s so young, Frank said. He’s unsure of himself. Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t Ethan our youngest contestant?

Yes, he was, Nancy confirmed. He applied to be a contestant the day after his eighteenth birthday. He was declared the final contestant three days later.

So, four days after turning eighteen, Ethan realized he had to kill someone, Frank replied. What a birthday present!

Yeah, but not as good as the million-dollar prize if he succeeded, Nancy said.

That’s true. But tell me, Nancy. Did you think he was going to pull it off? Frank asked.

You have to remember that this footage was from fifteen years ago, Nancy said. I was only nine at the time. My parents were old-fashioned. They thought I should be sent out of the room before the show aired the footage of the kill.

But I assume that you’ve seen it since then, Frank replied.

A couple of times, Nancy said. The editors and I sometimes watch the old video clips if we don’t have much to do. It alleviates the boredom.

While Nancy wasn’t an editor, she still had an important job as the office manager. She made sure that everything ran smoothly. One of her duties was talking to the contestants and making sure they understood all of the rules and the consequences if they didn’t follow them. She also gave them the name of the person who they were assigned to kill.

Yes, I suppose it would help, Frank said. It does get a little slow at times while we’re waiting for the assailants to go through with their kill, doesn’t it? Speaking of which, this guy was taking his sweet time!

Their eyes returned to the screen. Ethan had been by the tree for a good fifteen minutes. He was trying to get up the courage to complete his task.

His intended victim was Oliver Biorton. Oliver was a single man in his mid-forties who lived alone. It didn’t seem like he was concerned about being a potential victim since he had left his second-story window open when he had gone to bed. He probably figured that out of all the people in their township, the odds of his name being pooled were slim.

There was no sound coming from inside the house. All of the lights were turned off. Ethan walked to the back of the house. He had seen a ladder propped up against the back wall. He retrieved it. But as he was crossing the patio, the ladder accidentally knocked over a potted plant. The ceramic vase shattered, making a lot of noise. Ethan froze.

That was a rather tense moment, wasn’t it? Frank asked.

Yes, it was, Nancy agreed. And seeing the look on his face, I’m surprised he didn’t turn around and bolt right then and there.

He did look absolutely terrified, Frank said. But thankfully, he didn’t chicken out. That wouldn’t have given us much of a show.

You’re right about that, Nancy replied.

Ethan stood frozen in place for a couple of minutes.

He was listening to see if he had woken his victim, Frank observed.

No doubt, Nancy agreed. But the only thing I can hear is crickets chirping.

Crickets? Yes, I hear them also. It appears his victim was still sound asleep, Frank replied.

Ethan’s hands were shaking. He could barely hold onto the ladder, but he somehow got his feet to moving. Nervously, he walked around the house. When he got to the open window, he quietly propped the ladder up against the house. It came almost all the way up to the window.

Slowly, Ethan began climbing the ladder. He was still trembling.

Would you look at that? Frank said. He’s shaking so badly, it was a wonder he could do anything at all!

That wasn’t an exaggeration. Ethan was so nervous that he was causing the ladder to shake. Its metallic rungs were making a lot more noise than usual.

Ethan looked relieved when he got to the top of the ladder. He put his hands on the windowsill and listened. There was no sign of Oliver having been woken. As he listened, Ethan’s camera picked up on the sound of Oliver snoring.

Taking a deep breath, Ethan hoisted himself up into the room. When he landed inside, he made a bit more noise than he wanted. Oliver stirred. He stopped snoring and shifted to his side. Ethan squatted on the floor silently, afraid to move a muscle.

Soon, Oliver rolled back over to sleep on his back again. A few minutes later, the snoring resumed. Ethan waited a couple of minutes more.

Like a lion stalking his prey! Frank said, smiling.

A really clumsy lion, Nancy laughed.

Yes, indeed, Frank agreed.

They both continued to stare at the screen, knowing that Ethan was about to make his move. Even though they had seen the attack on video before, they didn’t want to miss seeing it again. This had been an outstanding episode. Frank and Nancy had never seen anything like it.

Ethan slowly pulled himself up. He grabbed the rope from his pocket and wrapped it around his hands until it was taut and sturdy enough to do the job. He walked to the bed and stood over Oliver. Taking another deep breath, he jumped up on the bed and squatted over his victim, trying to pull Oliver’s head up so that he could wrap the rope around it from behind and then pull it tight.

Oliver awoke violently. He threw Ethan off him, knocking him to the floor. He then jumped out of bed and flung himself at Ethan. He pummeled him with his fist. Ethan had dropped the rope by now. He returned Oliver’s punch and was able to avoid another attack long enough to pull himself up to his feet.

The two men continued fighting for several minutes, each of them landing multiple punches. As they fought, one of their punches caused a glass jar to get knocked off the bedside table when Ethan bumped into it. Sharp glass shards laid on the tile floor.

It seemed at first like Oliver was going to get the best of Ethan. He had thrown him back down to the floor and was poised to slam his fist into Ethan’s face yet again, but he hadn’t noticed that Ethan had found one of the glass shards. Ethan shoved the shard into Oliver’s abdomen before he could land another punch. Ethan barely got out of the way before Oliver fell forward.

Oliver wasn’t dead, though. He was gasping for breath and was trying to hold himself up with his elbow.

Ethan pulled himself up. Using the back of his arm, he slammed Oliver on the back, knocking him all the way down to the hard floor. Ethan quickly climbed on top of Oliver and grabbed the rope that was laying on the floor. He slipped it under Oliver’s neck and wrapped it tightly around his victim’s throat.

Oliver grabbed at the rope with his hand and tried to pull it loose, but there was no way. He was too weak to defend himself.

Ethan was breathing heavily. No doubt he hadn’t expected such a struggle. It should have been a simple kill. This kill was turning out to be much more violent than what anyone had expected when they had seen what Ethan had initially planned to do. That was pleasing to Frank. The more violent kills provided better entertainment.

When Oliver appeared to be dead, Ethan released the rope. He had done it. He had completed his kill. Now, he would win the million-dollar prize.

Frank paused the video.

Do you remember the details about Ethan’s family? he asked.

Yes, of course, Nancy answered. His mom was a single parent. She had five children. Ethan was the oldest, the only adult. If I remember right, his oldest sibling was his thirteen-year-old brother.

You remember correctly, Frank confirmed. Like the others in their sector, their family was dirt poor. I suppose Ethan was thinking that with his million-dollar prize, he could pull them out of poverty.

I suppose so, Nancy agreed. I’m sure they had many nights when they didn’t even have enough to eat. He was probably thinking about how good it would feel to put food on the table for his family.

Frank laughed.

Yes, probably so, he said. If only we could have read his thoughts! It’s too bad the cameras can’t read our assailants’ minds.

I think it would be more fun to know what the victims were thinking, Nancy replied. Can you imagine what Oliver must have been thinking when Ethan attacked him?

Frank laughed again.

I can only imagine, he said. It was quite a wake-up call he got!

Now, it was Nancy who laughed.

For sure, she said.

Frank pushed the play button, and the video resumed.

Ethan looked exhausted. He let himself collapse to the floor. There was no need to hurry to get away. No one was nearby to catch him. He didn’t look the least bit worried as he let himself relax and catch his breath. The worst was over. It had been a successful kill.

When the episode had first aired, Frank had warned the viewers not to stop watching after the kill. He told them that they would be shocked by what happened next. He hadn’t exaggerated. What had happened had been shocking indeed!

When Ethan fell back on the floor, a glass shard pierced his neck. Looking panicked, Ethan pulled the shard out. But it was too late. There was too much blood. The shard had cut him in just the right place. He tried to get up, but he was dizzy. He blacked out and fell to the floor where he bled out.

Pity, Frank said. To this day, he was our youngest assailant. He would have had the money. No one was anywhere near him. He could have taken his own sweet time in getting away. If only he hadn’t let himself collapse like that.

It probably wasn’t just physical exhaustion. It was probably mental also, Nancy replied. He didn’t seem to like what he had to do.

No, he didn’t, Frank agreed. But you have to admit that he gave us quite a show.

He certainly did, Nancy said. And we didn’t even have to pay out any money that week.

Frank laughed.

Exactly! he responded. I think that might be the best episode ever, and I couldn’t have asked for anyone better to watch it with. You’re still one of my favorite people to hang out with.

I feel the same way, Frank, Nancy said. You’ve done so much for me. If it weren’t for you, I would have never gotten this job.

You earned it, Frank replied. You’re a hard worker. I know I can always count on you.

He could count on her for things that weren’t work-related also. Hard work in the office wasn’t the only thing that had gotten her this position. But fortunately, Frank didn’t call on her to help him with those other duties very often.

Frank turned off the video.

So young and stupid! he said. But speaking of young, did you notice that this week’s victim wasn’t much older than Ethan?

Yes, I did, Nancy answered. She was barely out of high school. I’m sure everyone will be quite entertained. You’ll do a fine job hosting the show as always.

Thanks, Frank said, but his voice suddenly wasn’t very enthusiastic.

Nancy picked up on his change of mood. She wondered if he would call on her to do some other work, after all. Maybe he needed to relieve some stress. But to her relief, he didn’t ask her to do anything else.

I have a busy day, Frank said. I need to get going. But thanks for spending the morning with me. It was a pleasure seeing you.

You too, Frank, Nancy replied. Don’t be a stranger.

With you? Frank laughed. We could never be strangers. Not anymore. I don’t think there’s anything we don’t know about each other, is there?

You’re right, Nancy agreed.

Then he left. Nancy watched him go and was glad that Frank Sommers hadn’t needed any other services from her today. She would never deny him anything. She wouldn’t be that stupid. But truth be told, she wasn’t fond of the president’s brother. Let him think that she was his friend. He would be none the wiser, and Nancy would stay in his good graces.

*****

The night of the show, there was a large audience. Every seat was filled. There had been no tickets left unsold. The audience was quiet. A few people were sniffling and dabbing their eyes with tissues. This was the part of the show where the audience focused on the victim instead of the assailant. There would be plenty of time to enjoy watching his kill later.

For now, they looked at the girl who was lying in the coffin. Her name was Becky. She had been beautiful. Everyone could see that. She was wearing a blue chiffon dress with white lace running down the bodice. A lovely pearl necklace was placed around her neck. Her long, blonde hair was styled in gentle curls. Her eyes were closed, or people could have seen the pretty sea-blue color that used to hypnotize everyone who looked into them.

Becky had been a young girl, nineteen, thin and delicate in appearance as if nothing in this world had ever toughened her up. Her casket was light green and had flowers carved into the sides. A bright arrangement of red and yellow roses with a neon pink ribbon was draped over the top of the coffin.

There was a large projection screen on the stage that displayed images of Becky in her happy life-filled days. Her family, friends and dog were in many of the pictures. One photo showed her waterskiing. That had been a rare adventure. Boats cost money even if they were being rented. But one of Becky’s friends had a relative who had more money than the average person in their sector. They had gone out on the boat the weekend of Becky’s sixteenth birthday. It was the first and only time she had tried to waterski. She hadn’t been very successful, barely being able to stand up before falling into the water. Still, the photo showed Becky having fun.

There were pictures of Becky eating cake and reading her favorite novel. Another showed her dressed up with her friends when they were heading to prom. There was also a picture of Becky and her family on her graduation day.

In one picture, Becky was holding up a letter, happily displaying the full scholarship she had been awarded to Delonging University. It was the only university in their township. There was also a community college. It was named after their township. San Tropolis Community College had a few campuses scattered throughout the middle-income sectors.

Becky had been a very intelligent girl and had planned on becoming a doctor. All of the classes she needed were offered at Delonging University. Few people were afforded the opportunity to become a physician, but Becky had excelled in school. All of her teachers had said that she could become a doctor if she applied herself. She had known that she would do her best in college. She had thought that by the time she was ready to enter medical school, she could get the government funding needed to finish her education even if it would be a challenge with the High Council being very selective in who they chose to fund.

But tragically, Becky’s life had been cut short. So much violence. Most people were used to it by now, but there were still some who refused to accept the idea of someone being killed for entertainment. Naturally, the authorities wouldn’t see it the same way. So, the people who disapproved kept their thoughts to themselves, knowing that it wasn’t safe to voice such traitorous ideas.

Becky had been on an overnight camping trip when she was attacked. She and her friends had spent the night telling ghost stories. When they went to bed, the three of them shared a tent together. Becky got up for a bathroom break shortly after midnight. She hadn’t seen her assailant who quickly emerged from the tree he had been hiding behind. He grabbed her silently.

The assailant made the kill quickly, cutting off Becky’s air supply with his bare hands and choking her in a few brief moments. A beautiful girl with so much promise and so much hope for what she could do for future generations was gone now. There was no time to undo decisions. The assailant would have to live with what he had done for the rest of his life. But the odds were that he wouldn’t spend much time feeling guilty, not with the million-dollar prize that came with making a successful kill.

The audience listened respectfully as Becky's friends got up to tell their stories. Mostly, they talked about what a big heart Becky had. At Becky's house, her parents and brother, Darren, watched it all on their television. They held each other close and grieved immensely. Becky had been the center of their lives and had always remained positive. She had made everyone laugh and had filled the house with so much love. She was the most caring person any of them had ever known.

Becky’s family couldn't afford to attend the show, so watching it on television would have to suffice. They would at least be able to have a private funeral and burial tomorrow. It was better that way anyway. They would have their privacy and would get a chance to grieve with dignity, rather than having to be in a crowd of strangers who didn't really care about Becky.

The slide show of Becky's life finished. A government official came up and started talking to the audience, giving Becky’s biography. It started with her birth and showed her proud parents and her brother.

During the biography, Frank Sommers stood silently on the sidelines. He had been hosting the show for fifteen years. He was six years younger than his brother, Danton. The years had passed quickly. He was forty-seven now. At least, he had a youthful appearance. He looked distinguished, and most people would have guessed him to be around thirty-five years old. He had medium-brown hair and brown eyes.

Frank's thoughts drifted during the biography. In his opinion, this was the most boring part of the show. It wasn’t nearly as exciting as watching the kill. Distracted, Frank found himself thinking about how different their society was from what his grandparents had told him about their childhoods. That was so long ago. It was a different world than the one Frank lived in.

His grandmother was still alive, but she was old and frail at ninety years old. She wouldn't be with them much longer. Frank knew he would never reach redemption in her eyes. She had disowned him years ago and wanted nothing to do with him. She was one of the few religious people left in their society and told him that she prayed for him. Not that Frank cared. He didn’t believe in God. His grandmother held out little hope for Frank. She considered him to be too far gone. He had done too many things that she considered unforgivable. Every time he had tried to contact her in the last ten years, she had only spoken briefly with him. But she always ended each short encounter with, May God have mercy on your soul!

It hurt at first when his grandmother had turned her back on Frank. But over time, he had gotten used to it. Now, he accepted that he didn’t have any grandparents left. As far as he was concerned, his grandmother was as dead as his grandfather was.

His grandfather had been killed in the war, an unfortunate victim of being in the wrong place at the wrong time when one of the bombs fell. Perhaps all the violence of the war was partly responsible for who Frank was now. Violence begets violence. Hadn’t he heard that expression somewhere? Probably from his grandmother. Not that Frank considered himself a violent man. He had plenty of henchmen to do his dirty work if it was ever needed. However, if he was ever called upon to perform a public execution, Frank would be glad to be of assistance. Disposing of a lawbreaker wasn’t violence as far as Frank was concerned.

As for the weekly killings, there were plenty of people who volunteered to be contestants for the show. What Frank was doing was nothing compared to what they did week after week. His conscience was clean. He slept soundly at night, and no nagging thoughts gnawed at his mind making him think he was doing anything wrong. He loved his job and was grateful to have it.

The government official had finished giving the basic facts of Becky’s life. A young woman named Kate was speaking now. Kate was one of Becky’s high school acquaintances. She had been paid to speak. Everyone who came on the show to speak on the victim’s behalf received financial compensation. Now that they were paying the guest speakers, it was easy to find plenty of volunteers. Most people were struggling financially. Extra income was always welcome even if they only received two hundred dollars for coming on the show. Becky’s family could have used the money as much as anyone, but they knew they would never get through a speech without crying. That wouldn’t be good for anyone.

As Kate droned on, talking about everything Becky had accomplished in high school, the melody of an old hymn played in the background. It was one of the rare places where a hint of religion still existed. It was just music, a leftover remnant from a past society. No lyrics were sung. The High Council wouldn’t allow anything like that, not that many people would know the lyrics anyway. Most people didn’t associate religion with the hymns, having never heard the words to the songs. It was just pretty background music, nothing more. They might as well have had classical music playing in the background.

Religion wasn’t illegal. It was still a free country, but there were limits to President Aldrich’s leniency. Strict laws and ordinances had been made. Any item associated with religion could only be purchased in religious stores. There was several of those shops that represented different religions including Christianity, Judaism and Islam. There was also a store that sold items from a variety of religions including Hinduism and Buddhism. None of the religious stores made much money since they didn’t have many followers.

For the most part, religion was only allowed at home or church. At work, religion was a big violation. If employees were caught discussing religion in the workplace, they would have to pay half their wages as a fine for the next six months. Most people were barely surviving as it was, so there was rarely a violation.

Frank thought that anyone who believed in any religion was crazy. Like most people, he found it easier to not believe in God. That way, he didn't have to answer for any wrongdoings. Really, what did the world need with that kind of remorse anyway? Life was short. It was meant to be enjoyed and to do whatever you wanted to do, at least for people like Frank. The average citizen had to pay more attention to what they did. They had to abide by what the High Council told them to do. As for Frank, he wouldn’t sit around living by ancient religious rules and feeling guilty if he broke them!

Frank loved the world he lived in. The only time he felt uncomfortable with the way things were was at an occasional show. For some reason, he had a really hard time when the deceased person was a young girl like Becky. It made him think of his own daughter, Priscilla. She was fifteen and was the light of Frank’s life. He couldn't imagine his life without her.

There were so many killings. Violence held such a huge place in their society. Frank couldn’t let himself even imagine that what had happened to Becky could ever happen to Priscilla. Sometimes when the victim was a young girl, Frank’s thoughts were plagued with a brief image of Priscilla lying in a casket and the audience applauding. He didn’t understand where the horrifying thought had come from, but it tormented him greatly.

But there was no reason to dwell on it. He would push the thought from his mind as best as he could and snap to it as his father used to say. Priscilla would never be in that casket. For one reason, Frank would protect her with his very life if necessary. She was the only person he would ever die for. For another reason, it wasn’t possible anyway. It was silly to even worry about such a thing. As second-in-command under his brother who was president of the township, Priscilla would be off limits. She would never end up like Becky.

Frank forced himself to focus. The biography was finishing up. A moment of silence was next. Frank could have heard a pin drop to the floor had it not been for the occasional sniffle.

After the moment of silence, a new image of a young man came up on the projection screen. He was Becky's assailant. Her killer was twenty-two and had dark hair and blue eyes. He was dressed in a black shirt with long sleeves and a black cap. He had a big smile on his face. As soon as his face appeared, the audience erupted in applause.

*****

Five years later - November 2120

Brian was nervous. He didn't know if he could pull this off. The first two robberies had been fairly easy. A small scuffle with an old man had slowed his getaway down a bit. If only he hadn’t had to push the man down to get him out of his way, everything would have worked out fine. However, Brian had still gotten the wallets and left before the police could arrive. Today was the last robbery he would commit. Everything was on the line. He had to succeed. If even one thing went wrong… No, he couldn’t think about that right now.

He decided to wait until nightfall to stake out the bank’s ATM. There was always someone who didn't use common sense and went to the bank to withdraw money at night. Under cover of darkness, Brian figured he could complete the robbery more easily. It amazed him that anyone still used the ATM after it got dark. He guessed some people thought they were invincible and that nothing bad would ever happen to them. Whatever happened, Brian would have to be sure not to physically harm the person, at least not enough to make them need medical care. A small bruise wouldn't upset anyone, but no doctors could be needed. That was against the rules.

Hopefully, it would all be over quickly. If he could rush his victim, grab the cash and run away fast enough, he could get away before they barely had time to realize what had happened. He would be scot-free. The ATM he was going to was perfect. It was across the street from a row of trees and bushes that marked the perimeter of a park. Brian could hide behind the plant life under the cover of darkness. He would be in and out of the bushes like a ninja. No one would ever see him coming!

At dusk, Brian left his apartment. By the time he got to the park, a gentle darkness had started to fall over the area. Brian passed a couple of women who were finishing up their walk in the park. He gave them a polite nod and passed by them. No one thought anything of it. He was just another person out for a stroll.

A guy walking in the park at night didn't raise too many eyebrows. Guys seemed to have the idea that they could defend themselves against any would-be attackers. Women, on the other hand, like the two ladies he encountered, usually went out in pairs or groups. It was obvious by their brisk pace that they were leaving the park. It had probably gotten dark faster than they had anticipated. No doubt they were anxious to get home.

Brian found his spot. Making sure no one was around, he ducked into the bushes and squatted down. He peeled a branch back from the bush in front of him, just enough to give him a good view. The street was a small road, not too wide across, only two lanes. Brian was wearing his sneakers. They were very quiet. He could get across the street quickly without making much noise. The humming of the streetlamps would help offset any potential noise he might make. He waited there until he saw a woman arrive about twenty minutes later. She looked around as she got out of her beat-up old car and then quickly strode to the ATM machine.

Brian stalked his prey for only a moment. As soon as she began completing her transaction, he made his move. He slipped out of the bushes with such stealth that he amazed himself. He rushed across the street, barely making a sound. The woman, about twenty-five, didn't even notice him until he was approximately fifteen feet away from her.

She turned quickly, but he was on her fast. He grabbed for her money, but his feet slipped ever so slightly and caught him off-balance. He bumped into the woman and sent her back into the wall of the building. He winced as he saw her head hit the wall. This couldn't be happening. A possible head injury would likely mean a medical exam. The woman started to scream hysterically.

Shut up! Brian yelled at her. You're ruining everything! Shut up!

The woman was shaking and continued to scream and cry. Brian grew angry and grabbed hold of her, shouting at her to be quiet. He shook her and realized he was losing it. It would be worse if he harmed her further, so he let her go as he grabbed for the bills in her hand.

Unfortunately, her screams had called attention to them. Brian hadn't seen the police car sitting on the other side of the bank. The officers had pulled into the lot to do some paperwork on another robbery they had just stopped. It was always crazy at the beginning of the week. So many robberies. The paperwork was enormous. Neither officer enjoyed it. They heard the screams.

Here we go again, Officer Brodshaw said.

Seriously, can this ever quiet down? They don't pay me enough, Officer Carnellas replied.

With a quick yawn and stretch, they got out of their car and walked briskly around the bank. They almost didn't want to get there in time. The quicker this set of robberies was completed, the better. Then they could relax and take it easy for the rest of the week.

They got there just as Brian was letting go of the woman who he had been holding in his grasp. They also saw him grabbing at the cash she was holding in her hands.

Hold it right there! Officer Brodshaw shouted.

There was no point in running. He had been caught. Brian stopped and faced the two oncoming officers. When they approached him, he prepared to answer their questions. The woman stood by the wall, still crying.

Okay, buddy, where's your permit? Officer Brodshaw inquired.

Brian was pretty shaken up himself. His hand shook slightly as he reached into his wallet and pulled out his permit, handing it to the officer.

The officers passed it back and forth and looked at it closely, scrutinizing it to make sure everything was in order. They liked to toy with the perpetrators and make them squirm.

After a few minutes, Officer Brodshaw said, Everything checks out. You're clear.

How many robberies have you committed? Officer Carnellas asked.

Two, Brian replied.

Both officers broke out laughing.

Gee, guess we should have taken our sweet time getting over here, huh? Officer Brodshaw asked.

Yeah, poor loser here, Officer Carnellas replied. I'll bet he's hating on us right now!

Too bad you couldn't cut it, Officer Brodshaw said. Got a little sloppy on your third try, did you?

Thanks a lot, pal, Officer Carnellas added. Now, we get to keep up with all the paperwork until someone else gets it right!

They continued laughing while Brian silently stewed over his situation. His failure was a big joke to them. No wonder the citizens had such a disdain for the police. This whole protect-and-serve thing had become a big joke. It was really everyone for themselves, and that included the police.

Officer Brodshaw handed Brian back his permit after scanning it and stamping it with a big, red FAIL! Not that it mattered if he had the permit anymore or not. His chances were over. It was already recorded in the computer that he was finished.

The policemen finally turned their attention to the crying woman.

Oh, gee. Will you look at that? Officer Brodshaw said bitterly.

Yeah, come on lady! Officer Carnellas barked. Get over yourself already! Pull yourself together, will you?!

Then they left. Brian and the woman stood there, shaken and staring at each other.

Brian handed her money back to her.

Sorry, he said, even though he didn't mean it.

The woman took her money and walked back to her car, still crying. She would never come to the ATM after dark again. In fact, she might not ever leave her house after the sun went down. Or better yet, not leave her house at all.

*****

It was eight o’clock on Saturday night. Being the fourth week of November, darkness was falling earlier now that winter was approaching quickly. Darren Evannson descended the steps leading to the basement of the abandoned house. Its owner had passed away and had left the house to his children. He hadn’t had a lot of money. When things started to fall apart, he hadn’t been able to fix them. Inevitably, the house had fallen into a severe state of disrepair. His children had tried to sell it, but no one wanted to buy a house that was such an extreme fixer-upper. It was all that most people could do to pay their rent or take out a loan with a small mortgage payment.

The owner’s children were no better off financially. If they would have had the money when their father was alive, they would have helped him make the repairs then. As it was, they could barely pay the property taxes now. Of course, they could simply stop paying the tax, but no one wanted to risk being thrown in jail. It would be up to the authorities to decide whether to imprison them or not. If they determined that they had the money to pay the taxes but were simply choosing not to, that would be a jailable offense. Naturally, the High Council would still take the