Unrest
Copyright 2014 Jilliane Soriano
New sounds filled the air. A disturbing siren, wailing boisterously throughout the suburbs and its surrounding towns. The once playful chatter of the park had now died and all movement ceased, leaving statues that stared unitedly in the direction of where they thought the source of the noise had come from. Each face was puzzled; surprised. For a moment, the entire district was breathless, lifeless – too caught up in the sounds to react beyond the occasional gasping.
A woman and a girl stood rooted to the spot, hand in hand in the centre of the zebra crossing, unaware that a car had swerved around to avoid a collision with them. The car, too, stopped in the middle of the road and a man and woman exited and watched the crowded road with expectation and fright, yet, they still somehow remained vacant. They had evidently heard this blare before, though they could not believe their ears. The mother's hands fell limp; her body became numb and she let go of her daughter's hand as realisation dawned on her beautiful features. There had never been a siren like this before in this quiet little town – but there could only be one meaning to it: Danger was afoot.
The little girl, who possessed a perplexed and a watered down alarmed expression, looked at her mother and worry came as she comprehended the look on her mother’s face. It was one of pure horror and something else; something that made the little girl anxious and morose. And left her feeling helpless.
Suddenly, a male voice spoke through a megaphone from somewhere in the distance: "Please calmly return to your houses. This is a military emergency. I repeat: Please calmly return to your houses!”
The mother, at last coming back to the present, she and her daughter exchanged glances. Whilst the daughter remained confused, her mother was in sheer panic and in her state she scooped up her child in her arms and hastily sprinted towards her house that was thankfully a mere two blocks away. But alas, it was not meant to be.
As the two rounded a corner, a large tank appeared and stopped before the pair. A soldier in a green uniform - military jacket and beret included - emerged from the inside and exited the intimidating transport-slash-weapon. He sauntered cautiously yet with a foreboding stance towards them, leaving the tank behind in the middle of the deserted street.
Screams from residents ensued and could be heard from all directions and the thudding of many feet running caused the ground to quake under its force, like a herd of elephants wreaking havoc amongst the once quiet suburb. The mother felt as if she should be running away from the man, who was still very slowly making his way closer to them but she couldn't even find the will to move her feet; it was as if she were stuck to the asphalt with super strength glue. Run. Her mind cried in panic. Run in the other direction – run fast – run far. Her feet would not heed the order.
"Good afternoon, ma'am." The soldier greeted, stopping three feet from them and dipping is beret at the pair. His eyes, beady and sinister, shifted from mother to the child in her arms, a mischievous smirk playing at his lips. "Hello, miss." He nodded, eyes never diverting from hers. The girl opened her mouth in preparation to greet him back. She'd seen similar looking men in uniforms and had come to the conclusion that they were the heroes. How very wrong she had been. The little girl was so innocent, so pure of heart at only six years old. Her birthday had just gone by and now everything was changing for the worse, even she could feel it.
Before the girl could utter a single syllable, her mother spoke. "What's the emergency, sir?" Her voice cracked twice but the soldier gave an insincere smile that did not conceal his pride very well.
The soldier gave a nonchalant shrug as he replied in a monotonous tone. “We are taking over the Government.”
Sweat cascaded down my forehead and neck as the memory took hold of my attention once again, each detail – insignificant or otherwise – had perpetually been emblazoned into my skull, etching itself deeper into me with each passing day.
The darkened silhouettes of the sentinels paced the limestone floor of the vast Cathedral that was slowly weakening to the point of almost turning uninhabitable. The only light came from the resplendence of the moon which only seemed to make the sentinels all the more frightening as we watched them tour the spacious room, stopping every so often to stare at the door that led to a dimly lit hallway and eventually to a place where many had been but few had ever come out of. The only sounds that echoed around these four walls were the heavy foot falls of the guards who insisted on being labelled as our Guardians, and the synchronized breathing that belonged to us prisoners as we waited impatiently for that all too familiar shadow to cross over the threshold and leave with yet another human.
Scattered around the floor were hundreds of uncomfortable provisional beds that were occupied by petrified and corrupted people and though I could not see their faces, there was no doubt in my mind that the others held the same terrified expression as me and my heart beat furiously in my chest, bruising it from the inside, as its call went out to the next victim of The Captain's.
We were beginning to feel irascible, wondering when that moment that The Doctor would come and take one of us. The suspense, the incessant dread we all felt as we waited for that door to open was virtually unbearable, and no matter how many times we’d gone over the plans of what would happen tonight we were still tense; there was nothing more terrifying than seeing that form enter the room. Seconds began to feel like minutes, and minutes began to feel like hours.
All of a sudden, in the mere blink of an eye, the room was submerged in yellow iridescent lights as the doors opened with such unmitigated force that it ricocheted off the walls. A tall, masculine figure stumbled into the room sporting a laboratory coat and called out to the Guardians with his fingers rather than his voice. All breathing seemed to desist. Not a single breath left us as we attempted to eavesdrop on their hushed conversations to no avail. Each moment that passed by was excruciating and stretched on for what felt like an eternity. But at last, the incoherent whispering chatter ceased and the doctor and Guardians moved in one track unitedly. The rest of us watched in stillness as our eyes followed the moving shadows until they stopped at the corner of the room and yanked an elderly woman to her feet.
My breathing hitched in my throat, my air supply was constricted and I was barely gasping for air. The one they had chosen was a dearly beloved member of our group. But this was what we’d expected. We’d known it was her time, and though she had no choice but to comply, she’d gone willingly enough with the knowledge of sacrificing herself for our gain.
Jenna, or as they called her: Juliet-five-one-zero-Tango. The Captain was going to dispose of her.
I felt sickened to my core as I viewed the doctor and two Guardians vanish beyond the doors again, this time restraining her as she pleaded for them to have mercy. Her voice was muffled by the closed doors and the remaining guards resumed their duties, circling the room with new found resolve.
When the recalcitrance ended and the military won, our names had been replaced with codes. To them it was a sign of impartiality, equality, but we knew that it was more about taking away everything that was personal about us; force us to become robots, unfeeling and obedient to their wills. It had been twelve years since that tragic day the whole of the United States of America had surrendered to the army – people that were supposed to be our protectors, our idols, had turned against us all. No one knew the reason for their plans, though many guessed different scenarios, each one becoming more ridiculous than its predecessors.
But now they had Jenna. If only we’d carried out our plans the night before, she could have survived. A blood-curdling cry pierced the absolute silence and I resisted the urge to run to save her, knowing that she would be okay. It was all part of our plans; I just hoped that she wasn’t in any
pain. As the thought of her being in agony made its way to the forefront of my mind, reluctantly, a small sob escaped my lips and it echoed a thousand times louder in the Cathedral. Footsteps grew louder as a guard came towards where I lay. I should have held it in. Crying was forbidden and doing so only resulted in punishment, something that all of us had experienced and never wanted to go through again.
This was what the future held for us. Our freedom had been taken from us. There were no choices, unless it was between following orders and dying a painful death. But that was all going to change tonight.
The Guardian stopped at my side and knelt down until he was mere inches from my face as he spoke in a deep, mordant voice. “What’s wrong?” His tone sent ice cold shivers down my spine, but I did nothing. His hot, disgusting breath entered my nostrils and my nose wrinkled at the foul stench. A tingle shot down my spine as he laughed mirthlessly at me before he stood tall and walked away.
White hot rage suddenly filled my entire being at his sound, but my mind remained optimistic that we were going to escape tonight. I had to remain positive, if not for my sake then for the sake of all those trapped in this godforsaken reformatory that had taken everything we cherished and turned it to ash. Our decision had been made; no longer would we endure slavery to this antediluvian man who had the nerve to even call himself our leader.
Automatically, my mind started to go over the plans. Guardians were at every entrance, exit and corner of the building, not to mention the cameras they had placed everywhere which they had all insisted were for ‘our protection.’ The cameras would be easy enough to deal with. A simple yank of the wires, or perhaps sneak into the video room and dispose of them. The Guardians would not be much of a problem, either. We could easily steal their weapons, destroy them effortlessly enough. The problem was getting out of the building. It was surrounded by watchtowers, each with two soldiers carrying machine guns in case someone dared to escape, not to mention that once we did gain our freedom, we still had miles of desert and sand to trek through; but we only had to travel just far enough that they would stop trying to catch us.
I watched the cameras in anticipation, seeing each red light blink rhythmically, awaiting for a signal, for those red lights to turn off and then never turn back on. Time seemed to go on forever if not stop completely and I grew more nervous, anxious and the thought that maybe Jenna hadn’t gotten to her destination, that The Captain had somehow stopped her before she could get away. I shuddered at the thought and prayed for her to be alright.
At long last, the red flashes died and I knew what I had to do now. I looked over at the man on the makeshift bed beside me and stretched out my hand towards him. We were far enough from each other that I had to stretch to reach him, but it wasn’t an impossible distance. Lightly, I prodded his back with my index finger, a signal that the plan was now in motion. I repeated this action to all those within my range, and the ripple effect began to form, each person poking those closest to them to create large waves of movement.
Minutes later, a few select people began to deviate from their positions, crawling ever so slowly and so carefully that it was hard to tell that they had moved at all; but they were, ever so slyly and gradually towards the backs of the guards.
Then, as the bell tolled towards midnight, the only sound you could hear were the cries all coming from the sentries that were being killed by our hands.
The revolution had begun.