Scroll down to comment or rave this story!

  • 8 raves

A New Threat on the Horizon

Terrorist Acts Are Too Close For Comfort
noplacelikehome

 I am going to have to apologize for my absence in the writing department (even though I truly do not need to apologize for being ill) but I feel inclined to make amends not so much with you, reader, but with myself. 

Writing is my passion.  I've devoted my life to keeping up with my Displaced Citizens In Motion website in order to keep migrants safe.  I gather important information on what areas in the US are thriving or crumbling.  I list all available safe houses for migrants and keep them informed of ReDS infected areas and war zones.  But now, I'm not so sure if it would be safe for me to stay where I am and continue to maintain the site.  After the recent events, I really would like to drop off of the face of the earth, never to be seen again.  Unfortunately, my persona will not allow me to turn my back on this situation.

You see, two weeks ago the neighborhood ladies, the dentist and I went to the city to gather our goods as we do once a month.  The oldest lady of the two, Millie, absolutely loves flowers.  Every time we go to the city, she insists that we go to the flower garden that's near the old bus station.  She says the garden is the only untouched beauty there despite the fact that it is nestled dead-center amongst all of the violence, the disease, the poverty and sadness.  As you look at the decaying metropolis while inside the garden, you see that she’s right.  You can't help but wonder how something so delicate could even thrive in a city as decrepit as this.  It’s like looking at the most beautiful painting with the most vivid, heart-melting colors that make you feel - just for that moment in time - that it is nearly impossible to find anything else in the world that could make you feel as wonderful as those flowers did in that moment.

Now the dentist, who is a rather jolly soul, has a little bit of a love for snap dragon flowers.  He just giggles like a child when we walk into the flower garden and disappears from sight.  A short while later he always reappears with two snap dragons - one for each hand - with which he conducts his own “Snap Dragon Theater” for us ladies.  His cheeks so rosy with delight, as he puts on his show and making the ladies laugh and smile.  When the dentist finished his Broadway extravaganza, he looked at me half-smiling and said, "My little girl loved snap dragons.  We used to spend hours walking through the woods looking for them.  She loved the red ones.  She called them the "Fire Dragons".  I really miss her."  He paused momentarily and then asked, “So, what’s your favorite flower, Missy?”  I smiled back and pointed to a flower right behind him.

“That one.”

He turned to look at the amazing white orchid that stood almost up to his elbows.  It was curved upwards and almost appeared as though it were giving a speech to the rest of the flowers in the garden.

“Why the orchid?” asked the curious dentist.

“Well Tim, it is the most sought after flower in the history of mankind.  To many, there is no other beauty that can rival it.  But on a personal level, when I look at it and I see strength and mystery.  It kind of reminds me of myself.”

He stood silently staring at the orchid. He shifted his weight and fiddled around in his pants pockets, shoving his hands deeper into them as he was investigating this flower and my statement.  Trying to see how it resembled me then thinking of how the snap dragon relates to him.  I just gave him a pat on the back and walked away, leaving him to his thoughts.

(Sigh) I can remember that day so clearly.  It was a gorgeous day to go the city.  As we walked around the city, the breeze actually smelled fresh for once.  Normally, it seems to have a pungent smell of unhappiness and pain to me.  I really felt alive that day - for the first time in years and just looking at my companions, it seemed they felt the same way too.      

After we’d had our fill of the city life, obtained all the goods we needed and noticed the sun heading for the horizon, we decided it was time to return home.  We walked down the main street of the city as people whizzed by on bicycles and drove their biodiesel converted cars just taking in our wonderful day. 

Suddenly a rust-bucket of a van came charging recklessly down the street.  I quickly moved the ladies to the side of the road and Tim shielded us with his body.  The van came to a screeching halt and 3 people jumped out.  They had black and blue bandanas on their faces and their shirts were black with VHEM painted on them.  One of them walked over to me and forcibly grabbed me by the neck of my shirt.  He pulled me in close to his face and sneered under his breath as he looked me over.

“This is the movement to solve the world’s problems,” he said as pointed to the yellow letters on his black t-shirt, “and you are a threat to the movement if you do not join.  The day of absolution is coming soon.”  His breath reeked of coffee and cigarettes.  It made me think of him just sitting there in that van, watching us, drinking his coffee and smoking cigarette after cigarette.  Waiting for this moment.

“Listen buddy,” I said as I attempted to wiggle just a little more space in between my collar and my neck.  “ I am not a threat to anyone.  I mean, I live in a house by myself in the middle of nowhere."

"We are completely aware the influence you possess of over almost a million individuals right from your house.  We've been watching you for quite some time now." 

"Obviously.  Ok look, I don’t know what kind of politics you are wrapped up in, but I choose to stay out of those things.  Leave us out of this.”

“But you are already involved.  You own and maintain the D.C.I.M. website, do you not?”  

“Yeah I do, but what does helping migrants have to do with you and your movement?”  He tightened his grip on my shirt and it was becoming more difficult to breathe.  I could feel the sweat starting to run down the back of my neck.

“You have the attention of over a million minds, their family and their friends through your website.  People who trust in you for your information and your optimism.  You give people false hope by telling them that they can survive this mess and that there is some kind of a future for humans.  It's all a huge lie and you know it.  So, here’s the truth.  There is no future; therefore there is no reason for us humans to even continue trying to live.  The movement has begun and in 5 weeks...it will all be over because we will make sure of it.  Trust me on that.”

"If you think you are going to scare me into joining this group of yours so you can use me to recruit more individuals into your movement...you're wrong.  You know, why don't you just kill me?  Why even bother with me?  I'm not afraid to die."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out what appeared to be a vial of mace.  He sprayed me in the face with the substance, dropped me on the ground and stepped back.  “Maybe that will change your mind about joining the movement.”

I stared him down as I wiped my face clean of the substance.  It didn’t sting.  It didn’t burn.  It was odorless and tasteless.  He and his crew jumped back into their van and drove away.  I got up to see the poor old ladies frightened and concerned for me.  They tried to hug me and I refused.

“I don’t know what they just sprayed on me, but I can assure you that it is best that you don’t touch me right now.”

Millie clutched her flowers tightly and turned to Sammie...the other older lady.  “Don’t worry.”, she tried to reassure Sammie, “ Missy is just fine.  We are going home now and everything will be okay.”  Sammie just sobbed.  We gathered ourselves up and returned home.  I told Tim to take the ladies home and make sure they got their groceries put away.  I usually do that but I was afraid that if I did indeed have something that I didn’t want to pass it on so I just went home.  I don’t think I could’ve scrubbed any harder in the shower, even though I knew that the damage had been done.

The next day, I woke up so sick.  I couldn’t breathe.  I couldn’t see.  My body hurt so badly that I could barely move.  I cried as I walked to the bathroom.  I turned on the light and looked in the mirror.  I had dried blood smeared under my nose and around the corner of my mouth.  My eyes were pink and puffy kind of like when you get a case of pink eye.  I could only think of one thing...ReDS.

The MedEx bus arrived within 30 minutes of my waking.  They received the alert on my vital signs through the digital medical necklace I had around my neck.  I let them in and they immediately gave me medication, thinking I had ReDS.  They then shuttled me off to the quarantine center to be diagnosed.  It was a long hour of waiting for the results. 

Finally, the MedEx doctor came in.  He sat down and looked me directly in the eye.“I don’t know what you have, but it is not ReDS.”  Needless to say I was a bit relieved by that statement.  He continued, “But I’ve never seen this before so I am going to keep you for further testing.”  Reluctantly, I agreed but really what else was I going to do?  I needed medicine and pain meds to cope with the discomfort I was feeling.  If this wasn’t ReDS...then what was it?

For the last two weeks I was pumped with get-well juice, tested, poked, prodded, and analyzed.  I slowly bounced back.  I started feeling better with each passing day.  Finally, the doctor came to me yesterday to give me the news on my condition.

“This seems to be a curable strain of ReDS.  It is genetically engineered to cause the same effects as ReDS, but is not quite as potent as ReDS.  Whoever those people were defiantly intend on making people believe that they have ReDS, therefore possibly provoking themselves to commit suicide.” 

I had to find out who these people were and what their movement was really about.  So here I am back home after an extensive series of tests.  The doctor said I am stable.  I can breathe better.  I’m not as sore as I was and happy to have access to my computer.  I need to find out who these people are and what they are planning to do.  It’s time to get to work.  If you know ANYTHING about these people please let me know.  Any information will be greatly appreciated.

Oct 27
quarantine,superthreats,generation exile,superstruct,medex


Please login or register to add a comment


  • 2019Beverly
    Oct 23
    Be careful out there! 'They' do not like it when you give the one thing that might help.. hope! I have had to keep my own 'job' underwraps in order to protect it from these groups. I work now as if in a past time, it seems to help. But like I said... Be careful!
  • Megiddo Tel
    Oct 23
    That rips it! OC, I am sending you three of my people... and a package. Knowing your personal history I am sure that your going to be uncomfortable carrying it but, oh well. The three will introduce themselves to you as: